


Part Timer

by 8ball



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Zoro is very soft, everyone is happy and chill, i am soft, like come on sanji and zoro are so dumb this might take a bit, not going for an angst thing this time folks, ok I lied theres angst im a filthy liar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:59:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 100,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ball/pseuds/8ball
Summary: Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together.Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have quite a few chapters thrown together already, but this is the first long fic I've written in a while and I'm feeling up to it! I usually lay down the angst pretty hard so I'm going for something lighter in the meantime. feel free to ask questions or share thoughts, and forgive me if I dont respond right away! also excuse any grammatical shit

 

 

 

 

“Give me a job.”

 

Honestly, out of every possible direction Sanji had imagined this conversation going, he had not even once considered it getting slightly close to what it was now. He was half tempted to drop his knife, turn off the oven, and go to bed right then a there just to avoid the headache that this was surely about to become.

 

“Why. In the absolute _hell_ , would I hire a dirty half-assed swordsman with the IQ of a dead rat to work at my world-renown, high-class, finest of fine dining restaurant?”

 

Zoro, being everything infuriating and stupid as physically possible, shrugged. _Shrugged_. Like if someone had asked him if putting tomatoes on his sandwich was ok. He just, shrugged.

 

“I need some money to pay back the witch. You have money now from this place, right? Give me a job and pay me.”

 

Sanji felt a vein pop in his head. He was sure that inside of Zoro’s tiny brain, the caveman logic he was using was solid, and yet-

 

“Why don’t you just fucking collect some bounties? Or, you know, do the thing pirates normally do and find treasure?”

 

“Can't turn in bounties if I have a bounty, dumbass. Besides, treasure hunting is Luffy and Nami’s thing, and it takes too long. And it's boring as hell.”

 

Sanji made his way over to the oven, turning it off and giving up on the pile of apples. Forget headache, it felt like a migraine was about to punch him in the face. He nodded to the two other chefs that finished up kitchen prep with him and exited the main kitchen, desperately hoping if he made it to bed fast enough the whole thing would end up just being a bad dream.

 

“So when do I start?”

 

Sanji lowered his foot right as he heard the distant splash of the swordsman hitting the water. He cursed, and lit up a cigarette.

Now his shoe was scuffed.  

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


The All Blue floating restaurant was a combination of Franky’s latest and greatest handiwork and the slightly modified Baratie. The older ship wasn’t meant for the trip over reverse mountain, and by the time Zeff had thrown the anchor down next to the new ship, the Baratie looked like it had seen much better days, along with the old man himself. Zeff had promptly kicked Sanji in the head, yelled at Franky to fix the damn thing (“you try and change anything though and I’ll have you eating from a straw, you hear me blueberry head?”) and announced his retirement. As he put it, Sanji had found All Blue, it was his to deal with, not Zeff’s. This didn’t mean the old man wasn’t still in the kitchen most of the time, yelling at Sanji for one thing or another and barking orders when he felt like it.

 

“Oi! Eggplant! Get that green haired brute off the god-damn flour sacks!”

 

“I’m busy you old goat! Just kick him yourself!”

 

Sanji continued frying the onions while Zeff growled by the door.

 

“He’s your guest, you’re responsible, you take care of him!”

 

The nearby chefs looked back and forth, curious at the most recent drama. Sanji only gave them a beating if they stopped working, and all his chefs were good enough to lightly sauté even the thinnest cut vegetable while still paying attention of the day’s happenings. The perks of having a trained fighter and chef rolled into one meant constant awareness, a blessing and curse for the head chef.

Grumbling curses foul enough to kill flowers, Sanji passed the pan to Zeff and stomped his way to the many pantries. Zoro was in the third one, snoring away on a bag of perfectly shifted flour, important all the way from the east blue.

 

“Get OUT!”

 

Sanji had to maneuver himself so the kick didn’t come near any of the shelves. It came down on Zoro’s blade, yet said man remained comfortably pillowed on the flour.

 

“Time for work?”

 

Zoro yawned through the words, and Sanji pushed his foot down harder, making him grunt.

 

“It is time for you to LEAVE! I am not giving you a job, asshole!”

 

Zoro pushed the blade back, sending the cook into a backwards flip. He got up, stretched, and looked over at the seething blonde.

 

“Why not?”

 

Sanji was almost speechless. Almost.

 

“I already told you! There is no use for a gorilla on a fine dining establishment! Don’t you have people to go slice up? Just leave already!”

 

“Told you. Need money. Also no ship.”

 

“No ship-

 

Sanji looked over at the docking area. He had assumed one of the many boats was Zoro’s, meaning-

 

“How the hell did you get here?”

 

“Ship sunk on its way over. Dunno why.”

 

Sanji decided, for the sake of his own mental health, to end the conversation there.

  
  


-oOo-

  


“You WHAT?!”

 

“Your guest, your responsibility eggplant.”

 

“HE’S NOT MY GUEST!”

 

“Well he’s not mine, he’s not these guy’s-

 

Zeff motioned to the surrounded chefs, who had all decided it would be best to keep their heads down and work rather quietly.

 

“And he said he came here to work for you-

 

“HE DOES NOT WORK HERE GOD DAMNIT!”

 

Sanji was in desperate need for at least 8 cigarettes at this point, and he had promised Chopper he’d cut back.

 

“Whatever reason, he’s your problem, so he bunks with you. We don’t run a hotel here, there aren’t extra rooms. Deal with it.”

 

Sanji was tempted to pull the whole but-I’m-the-head-chef card but was very aware that had never once worked with the old man. Still though.

 

“Did you have to give him a key?”

 

Zeff gave him a flat look.

 

“Eggplant, I’d have given him my other leg if it meant getting him off the damn flour sacks.”

  


-oOo-

  


This was not going to work.

 

“This isn’t going to work.”

 

“Why the hell not?”

 

Sanji looked from Zoro to the single person bed and back to Zoro, raising an eyebrow.

 

“So it’s small, so what?”

 

Sanji raised a hand, deciding to make all the things wrong with the situation as clear as possible so the moss head didn’t hurt himself thinking.

 

“One. There is no way two grown men are fitting on that bed, which should be obvious but I’ll give you a break since you’re a helpless cyclops. Two. Not only do you smell, you snore.”

 

Zoro looked like he was about to argue but Sanji held up the third finger.

 

“Three. I told you to LEAVE you shitty plant brain! Call Luffy and get him to pick your ass up! Or swim to another island! I am not giving you a job here!”

 

“You’re telling me this place doesn't have a single extra room?”

 

Sanji knew for a fact where _one_ extra room was, but it resided on the dreaded Nasugasira. The ship was the head chef’s absolute bane, crafted after his first wanted poster with awful, horrible accuracy. No matter how much he threatened Carne or begged Zeff, he couldn't get rid of it. Zoro hadn't noticed the small ship yet, a true miracle of things, and there was no way Sanji was voluntarily showing it to him. Said moss head yawned wide enough to crack his yawn, and then pointed at Sanji’s bed.

 

“I’ll sleep on the floor if you give me the pillow.”

 

Sanji made to continue his argument, but exhaustion hit him full force, and he sighed instead.

 

“Deal.”

 

-oOo-

  


Zoro did snore, almost as bad as Luffy. Sanji was thankful he was used to it enough to find sleep at all. Honestly, he was so used to bunking with unsightly sleepers since his very childhood that he hardly minded it, and, ok, if the bed was bigger and the oaf actually did bathe Sanji wouldn’t have minded sharing. He didn’t feel that bad about Zoro snoring away on the floor though, considering how often he chose to sleep on hard surfaces and the fact that, oh yeah, why is he even HERE?

 

“Wake up shit head, its breakfast.”

 

Zoro didn’t manage to dodge the kick to his gut, but as it was a rather gentle one and the cook was offering food, Zoro only grumbled about it a little. Sanji observed him warily, but was ultimately pleased to see the man had a better manner of eating when not competing with Luffy to fill his stomach. Sanji himself tucked into his own small meal, knowing it would have to last him through the hell that was lunch time on the dining vessel.

 

“So do I start work today or what?”

 

Sanji paused in motion of biting into his bread to turn and glare at the man. He slowly chewed and swallowed before speaking because unlike some people he had some fucking manners.

 

“Are you just doing this to annoy me? Is this what you do now? You’ve had enough of swinging blades around so you’re just going to annoy me to death?”

 

Zoro rolled his eyes, unimpressed and back to looking bored. Sanji guessed to most people he technically looked intimidating rather than bored, but then again Sanji had found sea kings to be fragile little things.

 

“Come on curly, don’t tell me you’ve got every single stupid thing on this ship running perfectly. Just figure out what needs doing and I’ll do it.”

 

Sanji looked over at the clock on the wall and cursed. He didn’t have time for this.

 

“Look, just don’t touch anything and come get lunch at noon. Go in through the back entran-shit actually just ask someone to take you there I don’t have time to make a map. Don’t bother the customers or creep out my staff, got it?”

 

Sanji barely waited for the affirmative grunt before rushing out the door. He prayed Zoro would at least not start doing his work out thing in the room. After a long day of work he really didn’t want to fall asleep with the smell of marimo sweat in his nose.

He greeted the usual morning staff as he swiftly maneuvered his way to the large preparation station at the center of his beautiful, bustling kitchen. Zeff was, unfortunately, already there and settled in to the work.

 

“You’re late, shitty eggplant.”

 

“Shut up. I was feeding the mold.”

 

Zeff grunted at that, continuing to flip whatever was in his pan. Sanji looked over the orders and began moving into the rapid flow of making and dishing out true perfection (which he knew it was despite a certain old bastards complaining). It brought Sanji’s mind to a light and easy place, one where it was simply him and cooking.

 

“So how long is the matcha head staying?”

 

Aaand the light place was gone.

 

“Fuck knows. He wants a job, the shitty bastard. Lost his boat too apparently, so I’m still working on getting him out of here.”

 

“Doesn’t he have some sword swinging to do or something? Why the hell is he asking for a job here? Don’t tell me he cooks.”

 

Sanji gave something between a laugh and a shudder, which probably looked like a small seizure. He remembered Zoro trying to cook. Once. It never happened again and Sanji would make sure it never, ever would happen again for the safety of all creatures on the planet.

 

“That lazy asshole just likes pissing me off. It’s not like there’s actually anything he could do around here. Like I said, I just need to get him a ride. Or maybe I’ll just shove him in a barrel and send him out on a wave.”

 

“Why not just give him some monkey job? Get him to do dishes, hell, get him to clean tables.”

 

Sanji distinctly remembered when a certain rubber man had crashed through the Baratie’s roof and Zeff had decided giving him a job would work out.

 

“We have these specifically hired people called dishwashers, you geezer. And like hell I’m putting him anywhere near normal human beings. Why are we even talking about this? He’ll be gone before you know it and be back to slicing open random assholes and out of my hair.”

 

Zeff was quiet for a while, and Sanji hoped he would stay quiet and let the cooking time be about cooking. Even talking about Zoro was enough to make the serene morning sour.

 

“He might just be here to catch up, you know. Nakama typically stay close long after the boat they sailed on departs without them. Don’t tell me you don’t miss your crewmates.”

 

Sanji actually turned to look at Zeff. The old man had a melancholy mood around him, and Sanji reminded himself that not only had Zeff been a pirate most of his life, he had been a captain. He knew nakama, chose them and watched them, and (grudgingly) Sanji admitted the bastard knew more than he did.

 

“The moss head and I may have been nakama, but we never got along for shit. Hell, if we hadn’t met Luffy we probably would have killed each other a long time ago.”

 

“That true? You really hate the man so much but sailed with him for how long? Fought by his side, changed the world? Don’t lie to me, little eggplant.”

 

Sanji focused on the tuna he was making, slightly embarrassed at the parental tone Zeff was using to reprimand him with. Alright, so maybe he and Zoro didn’t literally hate each other, but it was true they didn’t get along! When the crew went their separate ways, Sanji actually hadn’t expected the moss head to turn up at his restaurant now and then. He always brought a good challenge sure, and it was kind of fun to argue with him again, but the man rubbed Sanji all the wrong ways, got under his skin like dirt under fingernails and drove him crazy. And, if years of sailing together had proved anything, it was that Zoro felt the same way. They had a good system going of only coming in contact when the gang gathered for a social meet up, there was a big deal with some big baddie, or Zoro was (not willing to admit it) lost. Zoro was currently fucking up that system at the moment, which was another reason Sanji wanted to kick a hole through his face. No, having the stupid swordsman around for an extended period of time without the crew to be a buffer would end catastrophically. Whatever Zeff knew about nakama just didn’t apply to Sanji and Zoro’s relationship…thing.

 

“If you want to give him something to do and take responsibility for whatever damages he causes, be my guest. In the meantime, the liquor supply will need to be watched and I have a call to make. Does everyone hear that? Do NOT let the green haired dumbass have access to the alcohol!”

 

A chorus of ‘Yes head chef!’ rang out, giving Sanji the slight comfort that maybe his good wines were safe for now. Another reason to get the moss ball out of the restaurant sooner rather than later.

 

“You could give the brute a chance at least. It’s not like the world will end if we get him to do some shipment lifting.”

 

Sanji could very well see the world ending. He could actually see, clear as day, the image of Zoro next to the All Blue, which was on fire, shrugging his shoulders and saying something like “I thought the very sensitive explosive things went next to the burning lamp and then I decided to take a nap”.

 

“Like I said, feel free to make him your own little worker bee, just be prepared to clean up after him. I need a smoke.”

  


-oOo-

  


The den-den mushi sat happily in Sanji’s hand, probably picking up on its handlers cheerful mood. The blonde felt for the poor thing, since he knew he wasn’t exactly sweet with most of the people on the phone, and the little creature suffered for it. but in moments like these-

 

“Nami-swaaannnn! My gorgeous princess, it has been so long since I have heard your melodious voice!”

 

Sanji twirled a bit, a rather silly smile stuck on his face at the thought of his forever favorite red-head.

 

“Oh my eternally perfect flower, I have wished to see you so that I might feed you meals refined enough for yo-

 

“Ok, can we skip this part? What do you need, Sanji.”

 

“Ah, of course, such a skilled lady as yourself will be preoccupied by-

 

“Sanji.”

 

“The marimo is stuck here and needs someone to pick him up. Preferably very soon.”

 

There was a pause on the other line, and Sanji imagined Nami at her desk, looking lovely as usual with an attractive, pensive look to her elegant face-

 

“Zoro? What is he doing over there? He just bought my latest map for the southern grandline!”

 

Sanji looked over to his own purchased copy of Nami’s (still incomplete but incredibly detailed) new world map. If Zoro bought a map to the southern grandline, he was at least a week’s journey away from being in that general direction. What the fuck.

 

“Uh…Hmm. Well, I’m afraid even with you’re outstanding map-

 

“Of course the idiot ends up lost. Again. Why do I even bother making him maps? Does he even read them before he decides to just turn the wheel in a random direction? Wait, what happened to my boat?”

 

Oh boy.

 

“Ah, well, you see Nami-swan-

 

“What did he do with my boat?!”

 

Some men may admit true fear to Nami’s voice at times like this. But no, Sanji was proud to admit that he only shuddered and flinched out of true devotion to his Nami-san’s authoritative nature.

 

“Well the actual, er, condition of the boat may actually be fine! It’s entirely possible-

 

“SANJI.”

 

“It’s underwater somewhere and I’m very sorry-

 

There was a loud noise very close to a shriek but much closer to a roar, accompanied by several thuds and curses so vulgar Sanji simply refused to believe they could be uttered by a lovely lady such as Nami. After a few good seconds, the noises quieted down. Hesitantly, he brought the earpiece close.

 

“…Nami-san?”

 

No response.

 

“If anyone’s listening please come retrieve a lost child at these coordinates…”

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fine dining and deep conversations at 3am

 

 

The dinner rush was hellish as usual, but Sanji wouldn’t have it any other way. This was his own grand battle, one with no actual enemy but a challenge nonetheless. Luffy had governments to overthrow and Zoro had swordsmen to challenge but Sanji had this beautiful, grueling call for his skills, and the ability to use them. 

 

“We’re out of coriander, substitute with lemon thyme!”

 

“Bouillabaisse is ready for taste testing!

 

“Compliments to the chef, table 8!”

 

“I need a clean sauce cup over here!”

 

“What are you doing?! Dijon mustard and basil cant mix!”

 

“Table 12 has an allergy to crab meat at seat 3!”

 

“Does anyone know who the guy with the green hair and swords is? He looks like trouble!”

 

Sanji’s head snapped up. 

 

“Is he a customer?”

 

Maybe, maybe he could just ignore this. 

 

“The waiters said they tried to seat him, but he just ignored them!”

 

Fucking god. 

 

“He’s here to rob us or something, is he?”

 

_ Only of the booze _ .

 

“Oi! Sanji! Isn’t that your stupid guest?!”

 

Shitting SHIT.

 

“Shut the hell up Patty, I’ll deal with it!”

 

“Where’s Zeff, huh? Why are you the only one running the kitchen?”

 

Sanji resisted the urge to punt the stupid man all the way back to the east blue. 

 

“Because, Patty, I  _ own  _ the fucking place!”

 

“Oh, so just because you own the place-

 

“I LITERALLY OWN-

 

“SHUT UP AND GO DEAL WITH THE MOLD HEAD, EGGPLANT!”

 

Sanji let out a long hiss of muttered curses, threw his unfinished marinade at Patty to deal with, and marched over to the door with a glare that had, and would continue to, cause marine captains to whimper. He shot Zeff a look over his shoulder.

 

“You’re supposed to be god damn retired!” 

 

“And table 5 was supposed to have a drink refill 10 minutes ago, but shit happens.”

 

Wishing he had a cigarette more than anything, Sanji grabbed the wine a shaking waiter was holding (it was excellent, of course) and threw a nice fake smile on his face as he entered the dining room. 

One of the perks of always dressing impeccably, unlike some of the other (older and cough Patty and Carne cough) chefs, was that he could often enter the grand room as he pleased, able to fit in as a refined customer himself if he wished or giving off the appearance of the confident and successful owner he was. 

 

“Thank you for your patience, may I refill you glasses, sir and madame?” 

 

In this case, he was simply the well-groomed, sophisticated waiter. 

 

“Ah, thank you, and may we place an order for mor-

 

“Oi, shit-cook, over here.”

 

Etiquette put aside, Sanji decided a full roundhouse was the most appropriate response to that.

The customers had the intelligence to stay out of the current conflict, simply shutting their mouths and taking the remaining wine with wide eyes as one long blade was drawn to block the kick to the face. The wait staff continued to bustle around, well used to the commotion. 

 

“I thought I told you to not scare my customers, you moronic plant!” 

 

Zoro dodged the second kick, but grunted at the third. 

 

“It’s dinner time, I got hungry, someone said the kitchens were this way-will you stop kicking me?”

 

“The kitchens are through the large and only door that reads KITCHEN!”

 

“Nice try, the last waiter said the same thing but there’s no door-

 

Sanji, officially deciding he fell into the Given Up category, gave the swordsman a final kick to the shins before dragging him to the very clearly labeled kitchen doors. They made their way to the back, where there were a few chairs and tables for the staff. 

 

“Sit.” 

 

“I’m not a damn dog-

 

“SIT and  _ STAY  _ right there, marimo!”

 

Sanji stomped back to his station, only to have Zeff thrust a plate in his face.

 

“Feed ‘im and get your ass back to work.”

 

“You’re not my boss anymore, shut up.”

 

Sanji stomped back to Zoro and threw the plate at him.

 

“Eat. And don’t go wandering off when you’re done!”

 

They had a quick glaring contest before Zoro conceited to stuff his face. Satisfied, Sanji returned to his station, ignoring Zeff’s stare, which was doing a good job of burning his side. All he wanted at this point was for the day to end without any more unforeseen trouble. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


There was something very large and very heavy lying on Sanji. 

It was probably close to 3 in the morning, and whatever the lumpy thing was, it was way too warm, which was probably what had woken Sanji up. He remembered going to bed after throwing in the towel and calling off the small search for a one missing swordsman, with the sweet, sweet dream that maybe Zoro had decided to leave and stolen some asshole’s boat. 

He pushed at the heavy thing with no luck. He was too tired to deal with this shit. If some demonic wolf had decided to sleep on his chest he would deal with it in the morning.

 

-

 

The next time he awoke it was much faster and with the trained response to immediately kick the living shit out of whatever was making the noise similar to a small explosion right near his ear. 

 

“What the FUCK!”

 

“Son of fucking bitch!”

 

“Zoro?!”

 

“Who the fuck ELSE?! That was my knee you asshole!”

 

Sanji flopped back down, his head smacking the wooden floor while his feet remained twisted in the sheets on the bed. Zoro was rubbing his possibly-broken knee from the other end of the little room where he had landed. 

 

“Did you come in here and fall asleep on top of me? Are you serious?” 

 

“You were curled up on one side when I first got here, I fit just fine next to you!”

 

“Then why was I suffocating under your heavy ass?!”

 

“I don’t know, maybe you were moving around-

 

“Why didn’t you just sleep on the damn floor?”

 

“Because I didn’t want to! Fuck off!”

 

Zoro crossed his arms over his chest and practically snarled at Sanji, yet still managed to look like a pouting child as he turned his face away, stubbornly looking at the wall. Sanji worked his feet free of the sheets and fell completely to the floor with all the grace of a dying fish. Deciding to fuck it, he rolled over to where he had thrown his pants a few hours earlier, took out his smokes and lit up, still refusing to actually stand up. He let out his first lung-full and turned to Zoro, who was still sulking like a 6 year old. 

 

“Fine, just get in the bed and go to sleep already. I’ll stay on the damn floor.”

 

Sanji was actually willing to stay where he was. He was exhausted, and the sleep would be shit, but at least he’d get some. 

 

“Fuck you, you’ll just kick me out of it again.”

 

“For shits sake, just get in the bed and let me sleep, I have to get to work in-shit. Two-ish hours.”

 

“Then you get in the bed!”

 

“No, you get in the bed! I said I’d sleep on the floor!” 

 

“It’s your stupid bed!”

 

“Well you’re my stupid guest!”

 

Zoro looked like he was about to snap and launch himself at Sanji, who didn’t give much of a shit about anything as long as he could just sleep. He decided to go with what he hoped was a placating option. 

 

“Ok, if we both get in the bed will you shut the fuck up?”

 

Zoro looked a bit surprised at that, which was better than murderous. Sanji took a nice long drag from his almost finished cigarette. 

 

“Are you gonna kick me again?”

 

Sanji thought for a second on that. 

 

“No promises.”

 

Zoro grumbled, but slowly, as if it pained him, nodded. Sanji couldn’t give a single shit about what the other man was trying to process in his tiny brain, since his cigarette was finished and the bed was now his decided sleeping spot. He had to practically drag his body back onto it, and after squishing himself as close to the wall as possible, he felt the harsh dip in the little mattress and overbearing heat of the muscle head. It was uncomfortable as hell, but Sanji could already feel himself falling back asleep, shoulder being pushed into his face and all. 

 

“What kind of head chef only only has a Chopper-sized bed. You  _ own  _ the place.”

 

“Yeah, whatever, go to sleep.”

 

Sanji was so close to dreamland, he was almost in blissful unconsciousness. 

 

“We always ended up in a dog pile after a party, and even that’s more comfortable-

 

“Why are you not asleep.”

 

“Why won't you give me a job?”

 

“Why wont you just go to  _ sleep _ ?” 

 

Zoro sat up, causing Sanji to clutch at the bed frame so he wouldn’t roll. A vein popped in his forehead. 

 

“You’d bend over backwards for Nami or Robin, pull strings for Usopp, make exceptions for Franky, straight up cave to anything Chopper asked for, same with Luffy, and let Brook get away with shit you’ve killed men over. What I wanna know is what makes me so damn special that you’d rather shove your hands in a meat grinder than have me around!”

 

Sanji glared at Zoro, who glared right back. 

 

“Are you fucking serious right now? You want to have a heart-to-heart right now?”

 

Zoro growled, and narrowed his eye.

 

“I’ve been looking out for your scrawny ass for years and you never even looked in my direction, much less-

 

“Ok. No. Shut up. You wanna have this conversation? Fine. But you fucking listen here, asshole. I take care of my nakama, and that includes your useless person too. You think I didn’t look out for you? Who the fuck always had your back, huh? You see any scars on it? You think that’s all  _ your  _ doing? You think Chopper just magically forgets to yell at you about your bandages? Or Luffy suddenly for no reason decides he won't bother you when your napping? Or when you missed dinner but there was still something waiting for you every single time or MAYBE even you noticed your favorite brand of saké always in stock? No? What about when Usopp ‘borrowed’ your swords and nicked the blade but by the time it was back by your side someone had sharpened and polished them to fucking perfection?! Did you ever think about how your desserts were always a different color because you don’t like sweet things and I  _ know  _ that? Do you want me to fucking go on? Do you really think I didn’t take care of you?”

 

Sanji was actually embarrassed about the amount that he had admitted, but he grit his teeth and kept his glare on Zoro hard, daring the other man to argue. 

 

“Then why do you always want me to leave so badly?”

 

The fight left Sanji as fast as it had come. Zoro said it in such a soft, almost disappointed way. In a way he never spoke to Sanji in. Shocked, Sanji just kept staring, until Zoro’s discomfort forced him to break eye contact, blush high on his cheeks. 

 

“You never made it seem like you cared.” 

 

The blush on Zoro’s face climbed higher, the man obviously not comfortable with the conversation anymore. 

 

“I…don’t have-you all have these,  _ places  _ you belong.”

 

Again, his voice was so surprisingly soft. Sanji let him go on, not willing to break the gentle little thing in Zoro right now. 

 

“Everyone has…a place. To go to. To go back to. We all have the Sunny, sure, but it’s not that same as a place. Like Usopp and Syrup Village, and Chopper and his new hospital, or you and your restaurant. I don’t have that.”

 

There was a long moment where the silence just hung low and lazy, and Sanji didn’t really know what to say. It was almost like Zoro sounded…lonely. 

 

“But your home village-or what about Mihawk’s castle?”

 

“Mihawk is an old, overdramatic creep that started collecting rocks out of sheer boredom and only tolerates my visits so he can poke me with his sword while complaining about the next generation. I look forward to going there like Luffy looks forward to eating salad.”

 

“Weren’t you going to like, kill him one day?”

 

“Yeah, but he’s old now. I don’t really wanna kill an old man.”

 

“You’ve killed a hundred year old zombie samurai before and anyways isn’t he always trying to kill you?” 

 

“First, he was a zombie so it doesn’t count and second, he’s not really trying anymore, it's more like he’s just testing to make sure I haven’t gotten soft.”

 

“By slicing your stomach open.”

 

“He hasn’t done that in years.” 

 

“What about your home village?”

 

Zoro hesitated at that, and Sanji almost wished he could take it back. He was unnerved at this suddenly different man before him. The pre-dawn darkness made Zoro look smaller, less impossible. Human, with all the imperfection gifted to them. 

 

“I lost someone important there. That’s what that place is to me, no matter how much I remind myself of the good memories. It's like the entire island became a reminder of who I lost instead of what I learned, and it’s shameful. It’s pure cowardice and I still can’t see past it.”

 

Sanji thought about Germa, how the boats still existed out there somewhere and yet he would never be able to take one step so much as 5 miles from one. He thought about barren, rocky islands and how he became nauseous if he got too close to one. 

 

“Maybe it is cowardly to avoid what causes painful memories, but sometimes we need that self-preservation. I don’t know. You always try to train yourself out of anything you think is weak, but you can't get rid of that basic human bullshit.”

 

It was quiet for a while, and Sanji considered trying to sleep again, but he was awake now. wide awake, actually. 

 

“I’ll go back there, one day. But it won't be to go home.”

 

Zoro’s voice was still so quiet, so ridiculously gentle sounding for a man Sanji only really knew as hard. 

 

“It’s not like you have to make it your home. Most of us just made our own places, it's not like you cant either.”

 

“And do what? Sit around in some fancy Franky-model-70 boat and do work outs until I die?”

 

“For fucks sake Zoro, I don’t know! What the hell do you want? What does the world’s greatest swordsman so desire, huh?”

 

Sanji had thrown up his hands in a small fit of exasperation, and when they landed back on the bed one flopped right over Zoro’s chest. He let it stay there, not really caring and figuring that the moss head cared just as little. It was warm, gently rising with the man’s breathing, just like soft waves. When Zoro finally spoke again, Sanji felt the vibration of his voice. 

 

“I don’t know. A place to belong I guess.”

 

softened imagines of the old baratie flashed in Sanji’s mind. Flickers of the Going Merry, it’s wood splintering but warmth seeping through all the hundreds of cracks. The Thousand Sunny, with Luffy smiling over his shoulder from the figurehead. 

 

“Ok.”

 

It sounded hollow out loud, but Sanji understood. He knew. 

 

“…Ok.”

 

He said it again, because it felt important. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi short chapter with more coming sooner than later


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee, Robin, and hammer time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so first, I guess it doesnt really matter but I've always seen Sanji as bi/pan like not really caring about gender in the bedroom as long as they bathe so thats what he is in this story! I do NOT do a straight a Sanji who is stuck in the closet, mostly because if I'm gonna be comfortable being gay my characters are just gonna end up being written like that by extension or whatever honestly this is a fanfic so everyone is 110% entitled to their own opinion ok wrapping this up yeah thats it  
> also I love Robin, she's amazing, she deserved a pixie cut

 

 

 

Unsurprisingly, passing out after a heavy conversation and sleeping fitfully for 1 hour made for a shit morning. Sanji downed black coffee until it felt like his blood was less water and more dark roast, and he was still dragging. Zeff had the rare courtesy to not scream in his ear about picking up the pace, and instead let Sanji rush back and forth to refill his coffee mug. In fact, if Sanji was more awake he would have been downright suspicious of the old bastards behavior. 

Just when he was about to give up on his fatigued body and concede to a nap, he caught sight of one of the few things that could revive his very soul even from death itself. 

 

“A true goddess has appeared in my wake! I have been blessed by a thousand angels to stand near such elegance, such beauty! Oh my heart bursts with joy at your presence!” 

 

And then, just for the hope of a smile-

 

“Tell me, what if the name of such a divine creature, so that I may pray to it day and night?”

 

He was rewarded handsomely with a gentle chuckle, familiar as breathing. 

 

“It’s nice to see you too, cook-san. Or should I be addressing you as mr.head-chef around your crew?” 

 

Robin’s eyes were deep and mirthful, the smile on her face making them crinkle and sparkle. Her hair was cropped short and neat these days, fully exposing her calmly joyous face. There was something so very heartwarming about how relaxed she seemed to Sanji, the tenseness to her shoulders when they first met having left. Truly, she had only become more beautiful. 

 

“Call me anything you wish, I am but your humble servant so long as you grace my weary eyes with such splendor, Robin-chan. And as your humble servant, I find it sinful that you have yet to receive a new cup of coffee. I shall return!” 

 

Dashing back to the kitchen, he promptly ignored Zeff bitching at him for abandoning post, prepared a fresh pot of promised coffee along with two cups, and disappeared out the door before Zeff’s leg reached his head. He heard the telltale sound of a rolling pin hitting the door, but considered it permission to join the lovely lady, as it hadn’t actually hit him. And some people called his and Zeff’s relationship odd. Pshh. 

 

“Now then,  _ mon amore _ , here you are.” 

 

Robin hummed, still sporting a soft smile and she took her first sip, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the taste. Sanji did the same, but more so with the attempt to wake up a bit more, still feeling the remains of fatigue. He looked around, his position at the little table right next to the kitchen ideal for surveillance. Taking in the late breakfast eaters and early brunch groups, the chef couldn’t stop the wide grin on his face from spreading. Smiling faces danced at every table, even the single patrons. Sanji sighed contentedly, relishing the simple, pure joy at so many people at his own restaurant enjoying his food. He felt his energy bubble again just at the image of it all, and turned back to Robin. 

 

“I see business is wonderful, as usual.”

 

“It is! Almost a little too wonderful sometimes, but nothing I can't handle of course.” 

 

“And how is the infamous red-leg these days?”

 

“Just as old and grumpy as ever. He’ll claim to retire but he’s going to be 6 feet under before I can pry that chef’s hat off him.”

 

That is, if he bastard even could die. Sanji had his doubts. 

 

“I’m glad to hear it. And of course, how are you doing yourself?” 

 

“I am in perfect health, as usual! Have you been worried about me, Robin-chan?”

 

Robin set down her cup, giving Sanji one of her long and somewhat nerve-wracking once overs. 

 

“Well, in all honesty, dear chef, you seem quite fatigued. Of course, I may not be our little doctor, but it still seems you are in need of some rest.”

 

Sanji cursed the damn swordsman to all levels of hell. On all days to keep him from sleep he chose the day Robin would show up, making him look like a tired old man. 

 

“I can assure you, I usually get plenty of rest, Robin-chan! There’s just been a bit of a mold problem as of recently, making it harder to sleep peacefully.”

 

Robin raised her eyebrows at that, her smile twitching in amusement.

 

“I see, and this mold, it wouldn’t happen to carry three swords and wander where it shouldn’t, now would it?”

 

“As expected of a scholar, your deduction skills are unmatched!”

 

Robin outright laughed, something that Sanji’s eyes widened at along with his smile. His own chuckle rose up from his throat, bursting out to join Robin’s softer tone. 

 

“So then, tell me of your recent restaurant adventures. Has anyone exciting shown up to claim your bounty?” 

 

Sanji sipped his coffee, still smiling. There had been a few just last week, a whole group of pirates who had made it to the grandline by luck alone, and whose journey was ended at the All Blue. People were rare to underestimate Sanji these days, but those who did tended to be the younger and plain foolish. Even divided as they were, no one had ever attempted claiming a bounty and survived. Warlords begrudgingly bowed in acknowledgement, and admirals grit their teeth and turned the other way. 

 

“No one important I’m afraid. These days it's mostly all customers or stupid kids. The next generation of pirates may be a ways off still.”

 

Robin hummed, watching two waiters spin around each other flawlessly with trays piled high. 

 

“Indeed, and as they begin to take their first steps into the world we have left, perhaps it is time we find our successors, wouldn't you say?”

 

Sanji considered that. His sous chef was a man named Jai who was older than he was, and none of the young chefs showed any initiative, either because they were afraid they'd never be good enough or because they were afraid of Sanji. Thinking about successors put the head chef between a rock and a hard place. 

 

“Maybe some amazing young chef will just wash up on deck and become my apprentice. That would solve that.”

 

“I had assumed a more direct route would be your desire.”

 

Sanji took another sip, giving Robin a confused look.

 

“Direct route, Robin-chan?”

 

“To have a child, I mean.”

 

Sanji turned his head away just in time to cough away from Robin’s lovely face. A hand sprouted from his back, patting him roughly. A waiter passed and placed a glass of water in his hand. 

 

“A-ah, yes. Of course. That would, i mean,  _ should  _ a child-

 

He coughed again, face red from lack of air and embarrassment. 

 

“As I recall, you once spoke of your desire to be a father. And I’m sure you have nothing against adoption, as your own father has no relations to you.”

 

“Yes, of course, but Robin-chan, I don't think I could raise a child alone! And on a vessel that sees a fight sometimes 4 times a day- on the grandline, no less.” 

 

A sudden thought occured to Sanji, and he looked at Robin, wide eyed.

 

“Robin-chan, are you-

 

“I am not expecting, nor will I be. Motherhood is a grace I do not think I will attain in this lifetime. You, however, still have many ways to fulfill your desire of fatherhood. I do not mean to pressure you, I simply think it can't hurt to let the notion rest in your mind.”

 

She sipped her coffee, looking at ease, if not a little melancholy. Sanji didn't say anything, but clear as the skies he could see a little chef, running around and making mistakes and learning. Would they call him old man or dad? Would they look like him?

 

“I believe you would make an excellent father, Sanji. For better or worse, that is what I think.”

 

Sanji wasn't one to disagree with any woman, let alone Robin, but in his heart he had never wanted  _ just  _ a child. He had wanted the full deal-he had wanted a  _ family _ . Preferably a darling wife included in there, encouraging and supporting him. He wanted to be a husband to someone who wanted him to be their husband, and he wanted them to raise children who knew they were loved and wanted. Something he had not had in his youth. 

Their conversation turned easy and relaxed, with Sanji ordering some light breakfast foods for the two of them. Robin had recently stopped by Syrup Village to see Usopp, who refused to leave Kaya’s side now that they were married. Sanji and Robin speculated on if Usopp would remain there forever, or if he would still join Luffy on treasure finding and exploring. Meeting Kaya had made Sanji fiercely jealous of Usopp, and as much as he tried to stomp it down, the way they had both looked at each other-the way they had  _ waited  _ for each other, it tugged all of Sanji’s favorite romantic strings just so. It didn't help that Kaya was the sweet, smart, beautiful wife that any man desired, but of course at the end of the day she was family. A new member to the group, and the holder of their sniper’s heart. 

 

“I must admit, I came here suspecting our swordsman’s location, but I hadn’t foreseen his…involvement in the restaurant. It’s quite amusing.” 

 

Sanji snapped out of his thoughts.

 

“…Involvement?”

 

Robin paused at Sanji’s confused tone. 

 

“Well, yes. He seems to have become quite the handyman.”

 

Handyman?

 

“Ah…I’m afraid I don’t quite follow, Robin-chan.”

 

Robin made a small  _ oh dear _ and Sanji’s stomach dropped. He stood sharply, swooping around the doorframe of the large kitchen door, noting Zeff’s back turned to him, almost in avoidance…

And the man’s way to nice attitude at breakfast…but-

He wouldn’t. 

 

“Old man, did you call a carpenter for the patch job?”

 

Zeff, for his part, did a wonderful job of not appearing guilty at all by looking everywhere except Sanji. 

 

“We had a volunteer offer. Figured why not.” 

 

Sanji inhaled sharply through his nose.

 

“What. Volunteer. ”

 

Zeff tilted his head up to the ceiling, looking at it as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing on the planet. 

 

“A…strong one.” 

 

Sanji could remember his fights with warlords and god damn admirals, but he still didn’t think he had ever moved so fast in his entire life. He passed Robin, the customers, the staff, was out of the main dining room and over the balcony to the terrace, and then-

 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SHIP?!” 

 

Sanji severally hoped Robin would be kind enough to call Chopper after he was finished having both a heart attack and an aneurysm at the same time.  

 

“Fixin’ it. What’re you, blind?”

 

Zoro was holding a sledgehammer in each hand, along with a forging hammer between his teeth. Where the idiot had found not one, but two stupidly large hammers on a sea vessel was absolutely beyond Sanji, but he was much more focused on the horrible patchwork of wooden boards decorating the sleek side of his precious ship. That, along with the holes in it. 

 

“ARE YOU TRYING TO SINK US?!”

 

“Stop screaming, you sound like Nami.” 

 

“WHY. ARE YOU SMASHING HOLES. INTO A  _ BOAT _ ?!”

 

“It’s not my fault the wood hand take a hit-oi!”

 

Zoro blocked the kick with one of his stupid hammers, wielding them like swords as feet kept flying. 

 

“I’m going to kill you, kick your dumbass body all the way to marine-fold, and use your bounty to pay for the repairs I now have to make!”

 

“That’s certainly a logical murder if nothing else, cook-san.” 

 

“Oh hey, when did Robin get here?”

 

Sanji continued his minor assault, more preoccupied with throwing every curse he’d ever known at the green haired bastard while glancing at his once pristine ship wall and holding back tears. He was tempted to just lie down and weep at the unfairness of dealing with such a destructive moron, but he was 70% sure if he stopped moving the combined rage he felt would turn into a migraine so strong it would literally kill him. 

 

“I only just arrived this morning. Funny that I should run into someone who so recently procured a map of the southern grandline though, seeing how far we are from that location.” 

 

Robin smiled down knowingly at the swordsman, who palled at her words and took a sharp kick to the shoulder in his distraction. 

 

“So-shit-the witch has started sending assassins after me now-hey! I’m wasn’t done with that!”

 

Sanji had managed to get one hammer flying off into the sun, and hopefully then into the deepest part of the sea where it would never harm another vessel again. 

 

“Now my balance if off! How am I supposed to fix your shitty boat now, curly?”

 

“By never touching it again! That’s how! With you shitty record so far it’s amazing you didn’t sink the Sunny!”

 

“Ah, yes. I actually have a message from a rather agitated navigator regarding a missing boat. Although I’m sure you can guess the general idea of it, right swordsman-san?” 

 

Zoro grimaced, looking almost nauseous as he no doubt thought about the overwhelming cost he now owed to the furious redhead. 

 

“How did she even find out about that?”

 

Sanji gave a triumphant laugh, earning a deep glare from the moss head. Sanji could at least count his small victory there, knowing that even if his ship was currently hole-filled, his lovely Nami would always serve swift punishment on those that caused her financial trouble. He would be sure to enforce her word as law in this particular case as well. 

 

“Now that you’re done massacring my life’s dream, I have an old man to murder. You so much as touch another hammer within 10 miles of here and you’re ass is fish bait, got it seaweed brain?” 

 

Sanji didn’t feel like waiting for the likely negative response, so instead he jumped from the lower deck to where Robin was elegantly waiting.

 

“Please don’t let him destroy my ship while I’m occupied. I’ll be back soon, my dear.”

 

“I’ll keep several eyes on him, not to worry.” 

 

Sanji gave a grateful smile before turning to rush back to the kitchens, no doubt to berate the retired former head chef. 

Robin turned to the disgruntled swordsman, smiling down at him as he tossed the other two hammers over the side of the ship without much care. She eyed the mess of holes littering the hull, and made a mental note to call Franky as soon as possible. 

 

“Now then, Zoro, I believe you and I are due for a bit of a chat, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Robin knew she wasn’t feared as the so-called demon child anymore, and she could hardly say she had ever enjoyed causing others to cower in her presence, but taking in the paleness of Zoro’s face and the way he seemed to unconsciously take a step back-

Well, there was a certain satisfaction to it.  

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro was not happy at his current situation. 

Of course, he wasn’t exactly the ‘happy’ character in general, but much less now. Where Luffy was basically a giant rubber sunshine, Zoro got the title of ‘demon’ fairly easily thanks to his personality. He didn’t like people, and her certainly didn’t deal well with them on a daily basis. He preferred his company to be combat based. It involved much less talking to deal with. Mihawk may be weird and creepy but at least he was quiet for the most part (even if he did stare at your for a good couple of hours without blinking much). 

But Zoro wasn’t dealing with Mihawk right now. He was dealing with Robin. Who, honestly, was much more dangerous than Mihawk because she knew things and stuck her own eyes and ears onto Zoro’s body without his knowledge or permission. Which brought him to his current situation where he was not happy. 

 

“Now then, what brings the worlds greatest swordsman to the famous All Blue floating restaurant?”

 

Always the damn questions with her. Or the cryptic phrase. Or just something creepy. Still better than Nami though, always better than Nami. 

 

“Was in the area. Decided to stay a bit.”

 

Zoro took a sip of the offered tea. It was delicious, of course, but delicious in the special way that only Sanji could get it to be because he knew exactly how Zoro liked it. Robin took a bite of her parfait, smiling as she swallowed. 

 

“Well I certainly understand the attraction to staying nearby such exquisite cuisine. However, you can’t deny it’s out of character for you to remain for more than a day or two, especially by yourself.”

 

Zoro heard the unspoken ‘so what the fuck are you doing here’ but decided to straight up ignore it just to be rebellious. He was really craving a good fight now that he thought about it. Maybe if he found another hammer Sanji would give him one.

 

“Perhaps you were missing our talented cook’s company. It would certainly be understandable with how close you two are.”

 

God damn the woman and her perception. As much as he undoubtedly cared for Robin, she could unnerve the shit out of him. 

 

“I’m just trying to make some beli to get the sea witch off my back.”

 

Robin raised an eyebrow and he carefully sipped his tea, admiring the closest wall rather than making eye contact. 

 

“And how might a skilled sword fighter make a profit on a ship which caters to cuisine?”

 

“Hey, I patched the side some, I deserve some money for that.”

 

Robin sprouted a few hands to turn the man’s face, just to make him acknowledge how flat a look she was giving him. 

 

“I would highly suggest you don’t bring that up in future conversation for the sake of Sanji’s mentality.” 

 

“Well he wont give me anything to do! He wont let me in the kitchen-

 

“A wise decision.”

 

“-shut up, and he wont let me fight the ungrateful assholes that complain about the food-

 

“Also a wise decision.”

 

“-shut up. He wont let me do anything, he won't even talk to me. He just wants me to go away.”

 

His words hung in the air and he clamped his jaw shut, aware that he just gave Robin all the ammunition she needed to pick him apart. Embarrassment flooded his being and he downed his tea, rising from his chair. 

 

“Zoro-

 

“I’m gonna go train-

 

“Zoro.”

 

Two hands sprouted from the ground, clamping onto his legs, and still four more as he tried to kick them off. Long fingers twisted his arms behind his back, bowed his head, and dragged him into his chair once more. A blanket of limbs covered his body, and he stopped struggling, glaring at the dark haired woman as she stared back. 

 

“You can’t force me to talk about shit just because you want me to. Let go.”

 

Her eyes hardened, a cold lake compared to the dark ocean of Sanji’s eyes. Blue and blue and almost opposite. 

 

“You came here to confront something within yourself. Isn’t it counterproductive to run away when you’ve already taken the first step?”

 

“I came here because I got lost and the boat sunk, there’s no deep shit hidden there.”

 

“Then wouldn’t you call it fate that you ended up somewhere you wanted to be anyways?”

 

Zoro tensed, flexing his arms and watching the slight flinch in Robin’s exterior as she restricted his resistance. 

 

“Somewhere I want to be maybe, but sure as hell not somewhere I’m welcome. Let go, Robin.” 

 

“Places of belonging are built around us from the foundation of trust.”

 

“He doesn’t even like me.”

 

“And yet he would die for you without hesitation.” 

 

The arms disappeared in a soft flurry of petals, and Zoro remained seated, angry and trying not to direct it at his nakama. At his stillness, she rose slowly, regarding him with her large, worried eyes. 

 

“We have always fought for what we desire, such is our nature as pirates and survivors of this world. I do not understand why you would not want to fight for this particular desire.”

 

Zoro met her eyes, and he wondered what he looked like to her. A trapped animal, rabid and afraid. Or perhaps a beast about to pounce. 

 

“Go back to your books, Robin. I’m not a puzzle for you to solve.”

 

She gave a sad smile. 

 

“I hope you can forgive me for pushing you. My only intention was to assist.”

 

Then, looking down at him fondly, and a little heartbroken-

 

“You deserve happiness, Zoro.” 

 

And then she was gone, leaving him with all his own frustration. He looked at the empty cup of tea Sanji had brought him earlier.

It was green. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Despite how old Zeff was, he still proved impossible for Sanji to murder. The usual rush of customers both lawful and criminal had also kept them both from kicking each others faces in, so much so that Zeff was forced back to the baratie to open it up for extra docking and dining space. A few good fights had broken out, ended swiftly by the head chef, but not nearly enough to satisfy his usual craving for ass kicking. A couple of green bellied marines had even shown the nerve to accuse the entire establishment of being against naval law with the head chef being a wanted man, to which almost the entire place had burst out laughing. When given the choice to either order their damn food or become the next mystery dish, they wisely shut up and chose the pasta. 

Sanji didn’t even have the time to entertain his lovely Robin, a disappointment above all else. She did inform him between shifts that though she had to depart, Franky would be there within the week to fix certain ship malfunctions and no, don’t worry he got rid of the other hammers please take deep breaths. Truly, she was an angel that no man deserved (especially not a pervert like Franky and honestly Sanji refused to believe that rumor). 

It was well into the evening time when peace returned to the All Blue, with the customers sleepily enjoying after dinner drinks and light desserts. Staff members were wandering off to their quarters, and Zeff had even called it a night. Sanji was doing last minute checks on food prep for the next morning when a hand sprouted from the table next to him, giving one of the newer chefs a very near heart attack. Smiling softly, Sanji followed the trail of discreetly planted limbs to Robin’s small vessel, where she stood waiting with sails already unfurled. 

 

“I do wish I could stay longer, but my own work demands my return.”

 

Sanji hopped down to the boat, rocking it gently. Another of Franky’s small masterpieces, designed for both speed and comfort, sporting probably 200 hidden weapons. 

 

“I understand completely. I only regret not spending more time catching up, I feel like I barely saw you at all.”

 

She gave him a warm smile, ruffling his hair gently in a very motherly gesture, causing Sanji to duck his head in embarrassment. 

 

“Make sure to take care of yourself mr.head chef. You should consider taking a vacation, maybe taking the king of pirates up on his offer for a brief time.”

 

Luffy had almost kidnapped Sanji on multiple occasions, begging him to cook for him as he continued causing hell for the newly reconstructed government. He had only let Sanji off the hook after the chef had all but thrown a trusted underling at the rubber boy. Sanji wondered if the poor kid was still alive after experiencing the true horrors of trying to feed Luffy. 

 

“Maybe one day, my sweet. Will you be alright navigating through the night?”

 

“It is odd isn’t it, that I still prefer traveling in the dark. Old habits are most curious.”

 

Sanji gave a little grin, passing her a bundle of premade simple meals, ones that were full of protein and easy to re-heat. Old habits indeed. 

 

“If you see any of the others, tell them to stop by for a warm meal.”

 

“I certainly will. I also promise not to waste a single bite.” 

 

Sanji wrapped his arms around her delicately, and she hugged him back, knowing that he loved her the same way they both loved each other and all of their tightly knit crew. The moment by itself was almost like coming home for a tiny second. 

 

“Take care of our swordsman. Make sure he doesn’t get too lost.” 

 

Sanji laughed at that, open and a little drunk on the nostalgia he was feeling. 

 

“I suppose having a troublesome marimo around isn’t the worst thing in the world. As long as he stays out of my wine cellar I’ll consider keeping him as a pet.” 

 

“He would make a rather good watch dog, wouldn’t he?”

 

“A watch dog that gets lost in one room and sleeps 20 hours a day doesn’t sound very reliable to me, Robin-chan.” 

 

Now she laughed, chiming little bells that danced in the quiet air. 

 

“Perhaps not a watchdog then, but a good companion to have nonetheless.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ignore any grammar shit you know the deal


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter dedicated to a grandchild obsessed Zeff, who will always be my favorite

-oOo-

  
  


By the time dawn rolled around, Sanji was awake and feeling more well-rested than he had in a long time. He had gone to bed alone, figuring that if Zoro really tried hard enough he could find the room again if he wanted to. His guess had been right, seeing as the green haired asshole was currently curled around Sanji and sleeping remarkably peacefully. It was surprising to the blonde that he hadn’t been woken up at the devil’s hour, and deciding to reward the rare courtesy, he slipped from the bed without disturbing the oaf. Feeling ridiculously generous, he decided to get started on a nice breakfast for the two of them, still riding his high from getting to see Robin. 

He wasn’t the first to arrive in the kitchen, but due to the time there was no real activity going on. The more devoted of his staff had begun simple preparation work, while some of the naturally earlier than early risers were making large pots of coffee and tea, kindly passing them around to the still half-asleep workers. A few sleepy ‘morning, head chef’ greetings were passed his way, and he nodded in return, taking a cup of coffee from a young waiter who claimed he liked to watch Sanji work, but blushed far too often to get away with hiding his true intentions. Sanji hardly minded the attention, he didn’t hide the bedmates he chose, and a fair number of handsome male customers had disappeared from dinner only to reappear for breakfast, sometimes kicked out after incriminating marks had been pointed out on the head chefs skin. The women he had tended to be more discreet, but not enough that he didn’t escape the knowing smirks some of his crew sent him. Either way, Sanji very, very rarely bedded staff members. His status as the owner of the place made him feel greasy about the subject, and the one time he had broken the rule the poor chef hadn’t been able to look or speak to Sanji without turning the shade of well-boiled lobster. It didn’t help that a few rumors about Sanji’s, ah,  _ skills  _ in the bedroom had spread, causing an epidemic of flushed faces and brazen flirting attempts. Sanji’s chest still hurt from the kick Zeff had given him for mixing personal affairs with kitchen duties. Still, young waiters didn’t usually stick around for too long, and he did like brunettes…

Sanji almost kicked himself in the face. He should have learned his lesson by now, damnit. He threw himself into the task of making a wonderful breakfast spread, perhaps being a little more vigorous than usual but ultimately creating nothing short of exceptional cuisine. A few chefs had taken to sipping their coffee while watching him, enraptured by the speed, precision, and unrealistic grace that Sanji possessed. It was expected of a man who had fed the king of the pirates. He was unmatched. 

 

“Bit much just for yourself, head chef. Did miss Nico stay overnight?” 

 

Sanji gave the asking chef a hard look, making sure the other man wasn’t implying anything unsavory. Luckily for the man’s health, Sanji saw his question was innocent, as it usually was considering how the head chef had dealt with a particularly crude comment the last time Nami had docked overnight. 

 

“Unfortunately, she left last night. I decided to treat myself and the moss head to something a bit nicer than toast today. It’s been far too long since I’ve cooked for myself, now that I think about it.” 

 

He missed the way a few faces exchanged looks, instead setting out the plates to dish up. 

 

“I’ll be back in an hour. Could someone get the mackerel cuts out to de-thaw?”  

 

A chorus of  _ yes, head chef _ followed him out the door. About a minute passed before Zeff burst in, startling the quiet peace. He took one look at Sanji’s station, clear evidence of a full meal having been made. 

 

“Did eggplant have a girl over last night who stayed?”

 

The staff rolled their eyes, practically hearing the old man thinking the word grandkids on repeat. 

 

“He’s bringing it to his room to eat with that swordsman who tried to destroy the boat yesterday.”

 

Zeff deflated comically. In the next second though, his mustache twitched in curiosity. He went over and examined the scene of the crime, eyebrows rising as he realized his eggplant had actually made something quite nice for the mold head. 

 

“Huh. Guess they can do adoption.”

 

The sound of palms hitting faces echoed all the way into the dining room. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro roused from his slumber to the sound of clinking utensils and ceramic plates. It was one of the melodies that Zoro knew to identify with Sanji, completed by the soft click of a lighter and the smell of tobacco, mullein, and cloves. 

 

“Oi, food’s getting cold. Get up.” 

 

Grumbling, the swordsman swung his legs over the side of the bed, and rose to a tall stretch, yawning as he scratched his bare chest. He got up, took a few steps, and collapsed in the one of two chairs in the little room. He was honestly still exhausted from running around last night since the hallways kept moving around. 

 

“Here. Tea.”

 

He accepted it blindly, taking a deep sip, burning his tongue but still enjoying it. He glanced over at what Sanji had brought them, pleasantly surprised and immediately suspicious at seeing a lot of his favorites, including a large helping of onigiri and miso. There were savory crepes, sliced fruit, fresh bread, meat slices and cheese stuffed omelets. Nothing sweet, and a big pot of green tea. 

 

“Is this poisoned or something?” 

 

“No, you stupid idiot, I wanted to cook for myself for a change. You just happened to be in my eating space.”

 

Zoro took the excuse, knowing full well what Sanji normally prepared just for himself. He didn’t want to gamble with the cook’s generosity, instead taking a large bite of the rice balls and digging into the meal. Sanji waited a moment, finding approval in Zoro’s gusto, and tucked into his own, smaller plate. 

The swordsman stole glances every now and then, like he used to on Merry and Sunny when Luffy wasn’t devouring everything edible in sight. He knew it was weird but he liked watching Sanji eat. There was something very satisfying about seeing him enjoy what he had made, seeing him indulge when he almost never did. He gave little smiles when he chewed something he was proud of, or his brow would scrunch up if he suddenly thought of a way to change a recipe. Sometimes he would chew a bit slower, like he was trying to figure something out, like an ingredient or if he needed more salt next time. It was highly amusing to watch, and pleasant at seeing how open Sanji was with his thoughts and emotions. He was vivid when he had the chance to be honestly himself. Zoro knew he’d need to distract himself before he got caught staring. 

 

“Is today gonna be really busy again?” 

 

“Nah, not as much. Sunday we don’t serve dinner, but we usually get a tougher crowd coming in.” 

 

Zoro gave a feral grin at the idea of possible fights. 

 

“Anything I can help with?”

 

Sanji gave his own manic smile, looking all the world like a hungry monster. The Blackleg Sanji the world sometimes (foolishly) forgot to fear. 

 

“I have to train this crew of fighting chefs somehow, so don’t go overboard.”

 

“So you agree they’re still soft.”

 

“Psh. Of course they’re soft. Some of these men here were born on nearby islands, they don’t know what half this sea is capable of.”

 

A distant shout seemed to come rising from the floorboards, making Sanji grumble. 

 

“That would be the old bastard. Time to start the breakfast shift.”

 

Sanji started gathering up the plates, but seemed to second guess himself late minute. 

 

“Bring these down at lunch so I can make you something. You’ve been scaring the other chefs shitless these past couple of days, and I’d ask you to smile but I know it's probably more terrifying than your usual face.”

 

Zoro would have argued, but, well. 

 

“Sure, whatever. Also fuck you.” 

 

“Its mutual. Don’t get lost!”

 

The door slammed, and Zoro could hear Sanji’s muttered cursing all the way down the hallway, followed by several loud thuds that he assumed came from Zeff’s leg. 

Zoro waited a moment, making sure it was safe to finish his meal in peace, still slightly on edge when it came to Sanji’s weird not-dad person. The old man had sharp eyes that reminded him of Nami and Robin when they had come across a particularly interesting piece of gossip (or torture method). Plus, for all intensive purposes, he was Sanji’s dad. When it came to the rest of the crew, parents just weren’t a thing anyone had to deal with. Shanks was more insane uncle territory for Luffy and his grandfather was always trying to kill them in a half hearted endeavor, Nami’s sister was downright terrifying but manageable, Chopper’s witch-grandmother-doctor-woman was a decent drinking companion when she wasn’t trying to stick needles in him, and Usopp’s wife was actually normal. Suddenly having a father figure thrown into the mix made Zoro keenly aware that most parents had this thing about protecting their kid and influencing them and shit. Sanji gave a lot of shits about Zeff even if he didn’t admit it, and Zeff still called Sanji little eggplant, so. Was the key, then, to get closer to Zeff in order to get closer to Sanji? Or did this risk Zeff deciding he didn’t like Zoro and Sanji, by extension and thinking highly of his dad’s opinion, not liking Zoro (even more)? Or if Zeff did for whatever reason accept Zoro, would Sanji see it as a passive aggressive bullshit move and decide to be twice as aggressive towards Zoro? 

Honestly, it made Zoro’s head hurt. He didn’t know how dad’s worked. 

But, he knew how chefs worked. And they were all pretty much the same, right?

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zeff liked his Sundays. He could get up at his usual time, yell at his not so little eggplant, cook for ungrateful assholes, yell at staff that he didn’t have to pay, and then take a long nap while the idiot of a head chef went to go flirt to his heart's content. He was hoping that one of these days he would wake up for dinner to hear that Sanji had finally snagged a woman to stay by his side for more than a couple of days, seeing as how the eggplant was making his way towards Zeff’s age when he had found a certain foul-mouthed little brat. Restaurants needed people to run them, and the best way to set up for that was to plan a successor, which was much easier when there was a kid involved. 

Zeff sighed heavily, watching Sanji flit around the tables of the packed dining deck, lingering at the areas more estrogen filled. He had at least grown up certainly, no longer drooling or nose bleeding all over the place like a teenager. He had picked up some semblance of charm it seemed, enough to cause a few blushes and certainly the willing night visitor if the rumors and lipstick marks were any indication. 

 

“Ah, Chef Zeff? Sir?”

 

Zeff glanced over at one of the soup chefs, a red-cheeked man who knew how to throw knives like he was born to. Zeff grunted to show he was listening. 

 

“The swordsman looks like he’s trying to find the kitchen again, should I get him or shall I inform the head chef?”

 

Ah yes, the so called world's greatest swordsman, one of the eggplants crewmates and first mate of the pirate king. He certainly had all the credentials of a fearsome beast, but honestly the man wasn’t doing a great job striking fear into Zeff’s old heart. 

 

“Is he in the flour pantry again?”

 

“No, sir, he’s made it to the vegetable freezer this time.”

 

Well, slow improvement is still improvement. 

 

“He’s not locked in there, is he?”

 

Lord knows replacing those freezer doors would be a pain in the ass if the green headed idiot cut them down.

 

“No, but he keeps going around the same shelves…”

 

Zeff swallowed his groan. He was honestly impressed by the swordsman’s ability to get lost in one room at first, seeing as he had never met someone even more directionally challenged than a blind and deaf fish. It got old fast though. 

 

“I’ll get him. Tell the red haired brat, Keri or whatever to keep an eye on the bread.”

 

“Yes sir!”

 

Zeff made his way to the giant vegetable freezer, noting the wide open door and the delicate lettuce leaves near it already turning a bit yellow. He’s have to rethink the entire week’s menu if the mold head kept fucking around like this. He stepped into the chill, already noting the movement to his left. 

 

“If you’re hungry you go to the kitchen, boy. Not the freezer.”

 

“The kitchen was here yesterday damnit!”

 

Zeff gave a silent prayer for patience. 

 

“Just get out here, I need to close the damn door!”

 

A few curses, followed by visible wrong turns, and finally the cabbage head emerged. Zeff gave a slow, sarcastic clap.  

 

“Very good, now if you’re done wasting my time just follow me back to where the kitchen has always been.”

 

“Are all chefs this bitchy or is it just you guys?”

 

“You keep rotten vegetable near the fresh ones and they’ll go bad too.”

 

“…huh?”

 

Zeff snagged the boy’s coat, pulling his back towards the correct hallways. 

 

“I’m saying it takes one to know one you little shit. I’m getting too old to deal with eggplant’s hissy fits, and you’re causing most of them. Care to explain why you feel the need to goad him into screaming matches at 2am?” 

 

The swordsman actually had the decency to look embarrassed about that. 

 

“It’s just how we are, you wouldn’t get it.”

 

Oh? 

 

“Boy, you may have sailed from hell and back with Sanji, but don’t you forget that I’m the man that taught him how to kick and cook. Whatever I don’t get, it’s not my eggplant. Which means you’re the mystery ingredient to this piss dish. What’s so special about you, huh?”

 

Surprisingly, the green haired brat only flushed more. Suddenly Zeff’s mind flashed back to the early morning and women-only quality meal his eggplant had prepared for the stupid swordsman. A few things clicked at once, and Zeff rounded on the man, making sure that all height difference came down to jack shit as he brought his glare to a level only the long dead enemies of Red Leg Zeff knew. 

 

“Alright, you listen here boy, you two may be doing it vertical ways-

 

“Holy shit-

 

“And I understand some crews are more close than others-

 

“What the fuck?”

 

“But I want to know-

 

“Would you just-

 

“Have you gotten any women pregnant? Any bastard kids on the way?” 

 

It was unsettlingly quiet for a bit, Zeff waiting with the patience of a saint while the idiot opened and closed his mouth a few times, bright red and off balance. The chef let the younger man take a few calming, deep breaths, gathering whatever he was bound to say. 

 

“Ok. First of all, the cook and I aren’t doing the vertical anything-

 

“There’s only the one bed in there, green bean.”

 

“There’s-why do you know that? Look, we’re not, doing stuff or whatever, ok? And what the hell is this with knocked up women? Wait, did Sanji get some chick pregnant?” 

 

Zeff sighed, looking the poor kid up and down. He was clearly having some sort of mild panic attack on top of blowing a gasket with the heat coming from his face, which certainly wasn’t complimented by his hair color. 

 

“Trust me, if the eggplant already had an egg cooking in the oven so to speak, the whole restaurant would know. I made sure he wouldn’t leave some girl at a port with an extra mouth to feed the way so many sailors do. But what about you?”

 

“Wha-why the fuck do you care?” 

 

“Well am I getting grandkids or not?”

 

“I don’t know! How the fuck would I be in charge of that, you crazy old man?”

 

“So you’re saying you don’t want a future with eggplant?”

 

“I didn’t say that!”

 

The swordsman took that moment to have a violent coughing fit, throwing in a few curses that raised Zeff’s eyebrows between choking breaths. Overall, the old chef decided that eggplant hadn’t done too bad choosing the guy. Decent build, apparently somewhat skilled with swords, and hell the man obviously  _ cared _ . Sure he was also a directionally challenged alcoholic with green hair and one eye but hey, nobody’s perfect. 

 

“Look, are you interested in my boy? Alright, dumb question, you obviously are but is he interested? Is this something that’s going to go anywhere because you need to start acting fast if you want it to.”

 

“I’m not-

 

“I’ll be needing to get back to the kitchen soon, but figure out what you’re doing with my boy and stick with it, because god knows he’s got other options. Hell, he’s probably getting some decent attention right now. But you’re nakama, you know him, you clearly like him, just do something already.” 

 

Zeff marched off to the kitchens, leaving Zoro in the hallway, red faced and confused. Pirate hunter or not, there were still some men that Zoro found he truly feared.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> standard sorry about grammar stuff, feel free to ask questions and more to come!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch with the pirate king! or an attempt made to feed him at least

 

 

 

A few days of uncomfortable bed sharing and constant bickering had gone by when suddenly, in the midst of lunch, Sanji heard two very particular words that came together to mean one particular shitty thing. 

 

“SANJI! FOOD!”

 

His leg arced, coming down just in time to land on a stupid rubber head as fingers reached out towards his finished spaghetti dishes. The arms snapped back as Luffy’s face collided with the ground, and with that the pirate king’s presence was announced. 

 

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STAY OUT OF THE KITCHENS?!” 

 

Luffy unstuck his face from the floor, giving a huge grin as he laughed, still as carefree and childlike as ever. Sanji couldn’t help but smile back, happy to see the silly man. That didn’t stop him from punting him out the kitchen door though. A few veteran chefs immediately went to secure locks to refrigerators and freezers, while the newer ones stood a bit shell shocked, still trying to figure out who the strange kid even was. Sanji, always the professional, straightened his tie, picked up the plates, and walked calmly back to the dining room. 

 

“LUFFY! Will you sit still for two seconds?!”

 

Sanji’s smile grew impossibly wide as he took in the sight of the red haired navigator punching Luffy and dragging him back to his seat. She was carrying several stuffed bags, papers trying to escape from every opening. Perched happily at the table and munching on some bread was a very familiar reindeer that brought Sanji’s grin to a full toothed smile that was almost too big for his face.

 

“Nami-swan! Chopper!” 

 

The cook all but threw the plates as a passing waiter and leapt to their side, eliciting a happy noise from Chopper who wasn’t quite as busy beating up Luffy. 

 

“Sanji! It’s so good to see you! How have you been doing? Is it true Zoro’s here? You two don’t have any serious injuries do you? Have you cut back on smoking like I told you to?”

 

Sanji humored the little doctor as he climbed up on the table (bad manners) and started an impromptu medical examination, checking for a broken nose, fever, and who knows what else. Sanji smoothly motioned to one of the waiters at the table, signaling basic appetizers and drinks should be brought out. 

 

“Hang on, I’ll have someone find the moss head in a second, I need to make sure your food-

 

“YEAH! Meat! Bring lots of meat!”

 

“Luffy, shut up! Sorry to just drop in like this Sanji, we know you’re busy.”

 

The blonde spun around, heart fluttering at finally being under Nami’s attention. It felt like it had been forever and a year.

 

“Not to worry my dear Nami-swan! There’s always room for you, both in my restaurant and my heart!” 

 

“Yeah, ok. Anyways I figured I’d collect the money Zoro owes me while we’re passing through, I need to get to the island west of here to redraw it since their volcano erupted and blah blah blah extra land formations, whatever. Might go somewhere else too, but that’s for later.”

 

The appetizers arrived, and Chopper and Nami very quickly lifted their plates as Luffy became shoveling everything in his mouth. 

 

“Yeah! And I tagged along because Luffy promised to take us here first! I really miss your cooking, Sanji. No one ever brings me candy at the hospital or the university.”

 

Sanji smiled fondly at him, feeling immensely pleased as he watched them both sigh happily at the first course.

 

“I’ll be right back, would you two like to look over the menu at all?”

 

“I think we’ll trust you with our taste buds. We’ll keep Luffy out of your hair as best we can.”

 

Nami demonstrated her point with a quick slap to Luffy’s reaching fingers. 

 

“Anything for you, Nami-swan! I’ll be back in a flash!”

 

Sanji rushed back to the kitchen with Luffy’s frantic plea for meat following him through the doors. Zeff was on soup duty, concentrating too hard for Sanji to bother him, but clearly peeved at the intrusion if the side glare he sent Sanji was any indication. He gave the order to a few chefs to start getting the ‘Luffy Supply’ ready for cooking, causing a few faces to pale while he set himself up to make something special for Nami and Chopper. 

A hand slammed into the counter next to him and he definitely didn’t jump. At all. 

 

“What is  _ she  _ doing here?!”

 

Sanji rolled his eyes at Zoro. At least this saved the cook time by not having to search for his lost ass. 

 

“Well, strangely enough, people come here to eat-

 

“Fuck off, why is she here?”

 

Sanji heaved a sigh and looked over at the swordsman. He looked on edge, probably because if he had any self preservation left in his stupid body he would know that Nami would be out for his blood if he didn’t come up with at least some money soon. 

 

“She must have tagged along with Luffy since they’re both going west. I think Chopper joined up just for the hell of it. So just how fucked are you financially?”

 

Sanji could feel Zoro stiffen from where he had started frying asparagus, deciding on pan cooked salmon for Nami and sweet curry for Chopper. 

 

“…Can I borrow some-

 

“Absolutely not.” 

 

“You didn’t even let me finish!” 

 

Sanji threw a flat look at Zoro before kicking him in the shin, noticing his hand inching towards the stack of apple slices. 

 

“You want to borrow money from me, which I would never give to you because, one, I would never get it back, and two, because you are a giant idiot moron who would probably not even give it to Nami-san and just spend it on booze. Do you seriously have nothing to give her?”

 

Zoro grumbled something under his breath, fiddling with a loose string on his ugly coat. He looked just on the side of pathetically hopeless, and Sanji actually felt a bit bad for him. 

 

“Can’t you just tell her I’m not here or something? I really-   

 

The kitchen door suddenly opened with the ominous creak of a haunted manor, despite the door never once creaking in all the times Sanji had used it. It was a bit like watching some unspeakable horror happen in slow motion, the way Zoro turned, wide eyed as he caught sight of the red hair, before frantically looking around for another exit, only to freeze as sharp nails bit into his shoulder. 

 

“Oh  _ hello  _ there, Zoro.” 

 

Nami purred out the words with all the promise of a body that was unlikely to be found, and if it ever was, it would definitely not be in one piece. Zoro visibly shuddered, and Sanji very wisely took a step back, moving to the next burner over to continue his cooking. 

 

“Witch. How did you know I was here?”

 

Zoro, bless his heart, was still trying to act brave. Nami’s little smile turned dark.

 

“Oh, I just followed stench of lies and deceit and it led me right to you.”

 

“I never lied-

 

“So you have my boat that you said you’d bring back? And the 40% interest on its rental cost? AND the 60% interest on its total value since you sunk it?”  

 

There was a brief silence where Zoro seemed to try to sink into the wall behind him.

 

“…It’s not my fault it sunk.” 

 

“Oh? And how is that?”

 

“There was…a big…sea monster?”

 

“Uh huh. That’s another 10% added as lying tax.” 

 

“GAH!” 

 

Nami suddenly turned to Sanji, and he stood up a little straighter, trying to remember if there was anything he could have possibly forgotten he owed his darling Nami. He gave a silent prayer, begging whatever gods out there that he could afford whatever it might be. Unlike some people, he actually paid all his bills in full.  

 

“Sanji-kun, you’re doing well with this place, aren’t you?”

 

Oh no, she was using her sweet voice. 

 

“Ah, y-yes? Decently well I would, um, say.”

 

Shit, he was burning the chickpeas. He chanced a glance over to her and-

She was batting her eyelashes. Oh he was so fucked. 

 

“But you get so many thugs coming here, I can't help but worry about you, you know?” 

 

She gave an adorable little pout, and Sanji felt his insides turning to batter. 

 

“Nami-san is so sweet for worrying about me! But never fear my angel, for I will always triumph! No measly sea thug can harm my floating restaurant!” 

 

“Still though, you’re so busy, wouldn’t it be better to have a little extra help?” 

 

A little extra-

 

“Er, sorry?” 

 

“I think, and it would really make me feel better if you did this, Sanji-kun, that you should hire a guard or something! And I know just the guy.” 

 

Oh no. 

 

“Wait-ah, Nami-swan, really its unnecessary-

 

“You’d do it for me, right? It would help me sleep at night, knowing you were safer!” 

 

“B-but Nami-swan-

 

“Please Sanji-kun? For me?”

 

Nami clasped her hands together, elevating her breasts just so with her arms as she fluttered her long lashes around chocolate eyes. 

_ Fuuuck. _

 

“…A-anything for you, my beautiful Nami-swan.”

 

Nami gave a dazzling smile, and Sanji prepared himself for the blow. 

 

“So you’ll hire Zoro? Great! Thank you, Sanji-kun! I’ll go wait for the meal back with the others, it smells delicious!” 

 

And with that, she was gone, like a gorgeous gust of wind. Zeff made an amused sounding grunt over in his corner, having been eavesdropping like the old bastard he was. Zoro mostly just looked confused, having not followed the conversation at all like the idiot he was. 

 

“Wait, you’re going to give me a job now?”

 

Sanji carefully turned off the burner and motioned for Zoro to follow him onto one of the decks Sanji liked to smoke on. He raised a hand and pointed off into the distance. Zoro followed his finger, scrunching up his eyebrows in confusion. 

 

“What am I supposed to be looking at, curly?” 

 

“Your body in five seconds.”

 

“Wha-

 

The moss head was able to block the worst of the impact with his swords, but the momentum of the kick meant he could only curse away as his body went sailing. A soft little splash reached the cook’s ears, and he sighed, reaching to light a cigarette. 

 

“Man! That was one super kick right there, cook-bro!” 

 

Sanji looked over the edge of the railing, saw blue hair and a speedo, and decided to forgo the cigarette. 

 

He needed a drink. 

  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zoro is what I call a perfect combination of Dumb, Broke, and Gay  
> Nami is always my lesbian queen bless her heart


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gin finally shows up, Franky cries a bunch, and Zoro's gonna need some ice for that sick burn Nami just served

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok im so sorry this is late i just moved apartments and my new place still doesnt have wifi so I'm posting at a cafe ahhh

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


After serving Nami and Chopper while his chefs pulled full carts of meat back and forth to Luffy, Sanji set aside some onigiri for whenever the fuck Zoro would swim back and eventually find his way to the kitchen again. He may be pissed but he was still their cook at heart, damnit. He began gathering a few barrels of cola, knowing Franky would definitely need a pick me up after he saw the atrocity the moss head had committed to the side of the ship. 

 

“Oi, eggplant. Someone is gonna start a local legend about a kelp monster if you don’t deal with that.”

 

Sanji turned his head to where Zeff was pointing out the porthole, still somehow focused entirely on his soup. Sanji wiped the sweat from his brow and took a look, before doubling over in laughter. 

Zoro had managed to get back on the boat in record time it seemed, but he was dragging what looked like half of the ocean with him. Giant lines of kelp clung to his waist and legs, dragging off of him like a slimy skirt, and a good deal had gotten into his hair as well. He was dripping all over the place, and Sanji didn’t even care because there were at least five crabs hanging from his body, one even off of his ear. The cook cracked the porthole, earning a warning grunt from Zeff that translated to _ get the fuck out of my space right now _ . 

 

“Nice new earring you got there, really ties the whole outfit together!”

 

Sanji once again doubled over, laughing so hard he could feel tears in his eyes. Zoro’s death glare only made the whole thing funnier, since he really did look like a poorly thought-out idea of a kelp monster. When Zoro tried to draw his swords the mess of weeds stopped him, too well tangled around the hilts. Sanji felt like Christmas had come early as the swordsman’s face turned purple with rage trying to get the swords out, only to slip on the slimy kelp and land flat on his back. There really was no gift greater than Zoro making a total fool of himself according to Sanji. 

There was a loud, unpleasant wailing noise coming from somewhere below, and Sanji looked back at Zoro, who had frozen on the ground and had obviously not made the noise. Zeff gave another warning grumble, this time translating to  _ for fucks sake go deal with whatever that is _ and the head chef was just not taking the chance of testing the old man’s patience after so many disturbances. 

Luffy practically leapt on him as he exited the kitchen, still chewing as two chefs looked close to tears behind him, no doubt mourning the mindless destruction of their heart felt effort. 

 

“Sanji! Why is Franky crying?”

 

Oh, right. 

 

“Zoro mutilated his child and tried to drown it, I’ll be right back. Don’t go in the kitchen!”

 

“Wait! What’s for dessert?”

 

Sanji glanced over at the two chefs, one who had actually started crying. 

 

“Bring Nami-san the parfait and Chopper the crème tart. Figure something cheap out for the glutton monster.” 

 

Well, now they were both crying. Good lord, he really needed to toughen up his staff. Maybe Zeff was right with the merciless kicking thing. 

 

“So the filthy ship sinker strikes again…”

 

Nami growled into her glass of wine, stabbing a strawberry with enough force to make Sanji flinch. He cautiously moved away, following the softer sound of gross sobbing not coming from his chefs. He should really hire Brook again, the place could definitely use less crying and murderous intent. 

Franky was indeed crying like a very ugly large child, but at least he was being productive while doing it. He was currently taking measurements and sniffling at the same time, and when Sanji jumped down to join him he just gestured frantically at the ugly holes. 

 

“Zoro found a hammer. Well, three hammers actually.” 

 

Franky lowered his head, the picture of despairing acceptance. They had all experienced the unsavory destruction of a bored or just ridiculously stupid marimo. Sanji knew for a fact that he, himself, had also put Franky’s ships through hell what with fighting the moss head and them both getting a little carried away, but damnit he took care of his ship! The All Blue floating restaurant was his very dream come true, and Franky was probably the only other person that cared about it as much as he did, if not for what it stood for then at least for the physical boat itself. That was probably the only reason why he wasn’t getting chewed out at the moment. That and Franky had moved on from sniffling to muttering profanities. 

 

“Is this the kind of shit Usopp had to deal with alone? Became damn bro, no wonder that guy has issues. Bunch of ungrateful kids, what do they think keeps ‘em from drowning, huh? And all these devil fruit users- you’d think they’d care if the boat sinks!” 

 

Sanji lit up a cigarette, figuring Franky could use some ranting. It was actually quite peaceful, so close to the water and away from everything, just the sound of the sea and Franky cursing up a storm. Sanji felt a small tug of something in his chest, remembering their younger days together on Sunny when it was just them against the world. They bent that world, but now it was just a day by day process of figuring out which foot should be placed before the other. 

A sword lodged itself into the deck where Sanji had been reminiscing, the slice of air by his ears his only warning to move. Franky gave an offended squawk, head snapping to the new hole. 

 

“GIMME A BREAK DAMNIT!”   

 

Zoro didn’t seem to be in the listening mood as he swung again, hitting the sole of Sanji’s shoes and pushing him into a backflip. The cook grinned, aware that as mean as it was to Franky, having the big guy around meant the boat could actually afford to take a few hits. Zoro seemed to pick up on Sanji’s mood, looking around and noting the base deck they were on was devoid of any people, and just wide enough for comfortable movement. He gave a sinister, excited (if still a little wet and kelpy) smile. 

 

“You miss getting your ass kicked, shit-cook?”

 

The blonde took a nice long drag on his little addiction, feeling his blood reach a kind of heat volcanoes would be jealous of. 

 

“I forgot what a masochist you were, always coming to me to get the shit beaten out of you.”

 

Two blades nearly took his head off, and his foot just missed the swordsman’s jaw. 

 

“Like you could even bruise me with those weak little kicks.”

 

The fight escalated quickly enough, boards splintering under blows and teeth gleaming in feral smirks. Franky returned to his work, only crying a little bit every time he heard something else break. Above them, Nami and Chopper watched while eating their desserts. 

 

“It’s weird how much they like fighting each other. This isn’t the way normal human relationships work, is it?”

 

Nami casually stabbed Luffy’s hand as it reached for her parfait before smiling wirily at Chopper. 

 

“Oh, this isn’t fighting.”

 

She turned back to the boys, probably two breaths apart and already bleeding a little. Sanji’s tie was missing and he was practically glowing. 

 

“This is foreplay.” 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Dinner rush ended up distracting Sanji from just about everything, as it usually did. Everyone had decided to stay the night, the sunny docked boldly and brightly next to the restaurant. Apparently the chef that Sanji had thrown at Luffy had survived, and was somewhere probably working diligently at restocking. Or possibly hiding. Sanji wasn't really sure. 

 

“It’s like sharing a bed with a sack of bones.”

 

Sanji kicked Zoro in the shin, growling. 

 

“You could have slept on Sunny, you know. Or the floor. Or  _ anywhere  _ really.”

 

“Nah, pissing you off makes me sleep better.”

 

Sanji huffed and closed his eyes. He and Zoro were matching black and blue with bruises and split lips. His ribs were a bit sore from taking a blow to the chest, but he knew for a fact he had almost cracked the moss heads shoulder. Zeff had broken up the fight by reminding Sanji that he wasn’t some crap-head kid anymore and had a restaurant to run for shits sake. Like Sanji needed to know how to run  _ his  _ restaurant. 

 

“So what’s my job gonna be?”

 

“To shut the hell up and go to sleep.”

 

“So I just takes naps and get paid. Nice.”

 

Sanji sat up, jostling Zoro and making him grip the bed to stay on. 

 

“Like  _ hell  _ im paying you shit! You’re an uncoordinated oaf at the best of times, and I do  _ not  _ need that on my, let me repeat this again,  _ fine dining  _ ship!”

 

Zoro shot him a glare before a slow little smirk filtered into his face. 

 

“Oh, so I guess I’ll just go tell Nami you said-

 

“SHUT UP!”

 

Sanji kicked him off the bed, the muscle head landing with a loud thud that reminded the head chef that a certain geezer bunked in a nearby room. He winced internally. 

 

“If you don’t give me a job I’m gonna tell Nami, and then she’ll be after  _ both _ our asses.”

 

“Nami-san will not be ‘after my ass’ you idiot. I’m simply doing her a  _ favor _ -

 

“So you’re hiring me-

 

“As a  _ favor.  _ This is for Nami-San only and you will be  _ thankful  _ and  _ nice  _ about it!”

 

There was a nice bit of silence where Zoro stayed on the floor and Sanji sat on the bed. For a moment Sanji hopes Zoro had fallen asleep. 

 

“But you  _ are  _ hiring me-

 

“For fucks sake, just go to bed.”

 

Sanji rolled over, covering his face with the covers as he felt the dip in the bed from Zoro getting in. 

 

“Sure thing, boss.”

 

Zoro slept on the floor that night. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Sanji was in the middle of serving Nami and Chopper breakfast when yet another familiar face entered his view. 

 

“Well look what the ocean spit up.”

 

Sanji embraced Gin, pulling him into a full body hug that was nothing short of bony and awkward. The haggard man had been a member of the regular customers list of the All Blue practically since it's beginning, and had never been anything short of wonderful company for Sanji. 

 

“Hi, Sanji.”

 

Since moving into the realm of friendship, Gin had always been apologetic about his very existence. Hi Sanji, sorry to be a bother. Hi Sanji, sorry for dropping by like this. Hi Sanji, sorry I’m even alive. It had taken a while to get to the point of familiar greeting without the guilt tripping over. 

 

“Well, I suppose you’ll be wanting something to eat, eh?”

 

Sanji believed that if he asked Gin to tap dance into Davy Jones locker the man would comply, but since Sanji didn’t personally well know Davy and knew his food was better than heavens buffet, he went ahead and got Gin some damn food anyways. 

 

“Thanks Sanji, really.”

 

“Believe me, you’re one of the few assholes here that even say thanks. I believe you’ve met the lovely Nami-San and Chopper a few times?”

 

Sanji wasn’t quite sure how Nami viewed Gin. She had shook hands with him over meals at least twice now, and each time regarded him with interest similar to the way a cat regards a mouse. Something very predatory seemed to emerge from the red head, and Gin was already skittish to begin with. Adding a cats hungry eyes didn’t help. 

 

“Hello Gin. Any interesting conquests lately?”

 

Gin gave a nervous chuckle, eyes moving anywhere except Nami. 

 

“Just the typical, uh, sailing really.”

 

A quick flash of open terror passed over the mans features before Luffy's figure engulfed Gin with all his rubber ungraciousness. Sanji tsked at the sight. He had been hoping Zoro and Franky would have kept their captain busy longer. 

 

“Sanji!! Where’s my breakfast? Why did Gin get it before me!?”

 

Sanji topped off Nami’s coffee while she laughed with Chopper. The cook motioned to a waiter to begin bringing out more helpings as the pirate king continued to assault Gin. 

 

“Leave him alone you rubber monkey. Gin’s come a long way and doesn’t need you eating all his food. Where’s Franky and the Marimo?”

 

Luffy finally untangled himself from Gin to find his own seat and begin devouring the scraps Chopper pushed towards him. Chopper himself looked up at Sanji with his large, concerned eyes. 

 

“I haven't seen Zoro at all since last night! I thought he would come to Sunny, but I guess he didn’t. I hope he didn’t get too hurt yesterday.”

 

Nami passed a knowing glance to Sanji. The head chef could guess that even if Zoro  _ had  _ been able to find his way to Sunny, the man would have chosen to be as far away from Nami as possible. 

 

“The idiot was passed out in my room when I started breakfast this morning. I’m sure he’s wandering around somewhere by now.”

 

Gin began to cough violently on his coffee, allowing Luffy the chance to grab more food from the other man’s plate. Sanji patted him on the back, passing him some water. Nami clasped her hands together, looking oddly entertained.  

 

“Sanji-you, and  _ him- _

 

Sanji raised a brow at Gin, his eyes wide and watering a little. 

 

“Me and…?”

 

“YOW! That’s some good smellin’ grub!”

 

Franky turned a few heads as he sauntered in, pressing his nose to change his hairstyle for the 50th time within that hour no doubt. Sanji thought it was endlessly amusing that Franky earned so much more attention at the restaurant than Luffy, since so many people didn’t quite know that the pirate king was essentially a dumb rubber kid. Sanji left Gin with an apologetic smile as he moved to the kitchens. 

 

“Who wants to work on a meal for the cyborg?”

 

A number of hands were raised as a few of the younger chefs exchanged excited looks. 

 

“Ok, his taste is impaired so you’ll be relying on texture and temperature. Tim and Al, go for it.”

 

The two men gibbered quietly to each other, rushing around the room in search of their ingredients. Sanji sighed heavily, still not quite sure what the appeal was with the robot stuff. 

 

“And what are you doing that’s so damn important that you can’t cook it?”

 

Sanji turned to Zeff, the only member of the chef crew he actually let touch Nami’s food other than himself. Old habits and all that. 

 

“I’m starting the Luffy cart. I’ll need 4 volunteers and someone to-

 

“Oi, cook. Gimme booze.”

 

Sanji didn’t bother kicking, since it was a busy work time and like hell he was giving Zoro the satisfaction. 

 

“I’m still not quite sure if you can actually read or not but there  _ is  _ a sign that says ‘staff only’ in here. Get out.”

 

Zoro just gave him scowl number 43; disgruntled and slightly hungry. 

 

“I haven't touched your frilly wines and I could have sliced the door open any time.”

 

“Oh, good for you! Actually slightly respecting my establishment and not damaging it more than you already have! Next you’ll tell me you didn’t get lost on your way here.”

 

Zoro brought the tip of wado to Sanji’s jugular, letting the cool steel kiss his skin. 

 

“I’ll get what I want one way or another. How much it damages this ship is up to you, curly.”

 

Sanji curled his lip into a snarl, feeling a familiar anger grip his blood. He tapped his foot on the floor once, the movement drawing Zoro’s eye. 

 

“For god's sake, take the cheap rum in the storage and get the hell out!”

 

Sanji and Zoro dodged the ladle and spoon flying towards their heads. Zeff was almost beet red in the face. 

 

“Don’t just  _ give  _ it to him! He hasn’t even-

 

“ _ You  _ need to find him a job and keep him out of here, stupid brat. If lunch rush hits and the cyclops is still fumbling around the kitchens I’ll get that pretty navigator in here.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare impose on Nami-San you shitty-

 

“I’ll tell her about a certain crap-kid that used to steal girl magazines-

 

“I'M GOING TO THROW YOUR BED IN THE OCEAN YOU SHITTY OLD MAN!”

 

Sanji was dragging Zoro out of the kitchen, pale faced at the ammunition Zeff was showing. Zoro just had Standard Scowl numbed 4 on his face; not quite dissatisfied but not happy. 

 

“Whatever. Just gimme the booze, cook.”

 

“I will get it in a damn minute you alcoholic shit head. In the meantime-

 

Sanji all but threw Zoro at Luffy, stopping him from grabbing Gin’s bread. 

 

“If you’re going to be employed by me then the first job is to make sure everybody eats. You’re on Luffy duty until further notice, got it marimo?”

 

Zoro looked over at Luffy with an annoyed face. Nami and Chopper were eating peacefully, and Gin was looking a bit shell shocked. 

 

“Fine, whatever. Just get me the rum.”

 

Sanji swallowed another insult, instead placing a steadying hand on Gin’s shoulder and flashing him a quick smile before turning to Nami. 

 

“Is there anything I can get you my darling? More coffee, something sweet?”

 

Nami flashed a radiant smile his way and shook her head. 

 

“Nothing at the moment, thanks.”

 

There was a loud thud from the kitchens, and Sanji looked over, catching Franky’s metal body passing by the door. The cyborg had probably wanted to check up on everything while he was here, sure to be in the way of almost everyone-

Another thud. Sanji began to fear that Franky was trying to talk Zeff into a new leg again, something that had ended almost fatally for the shipwright and had led to the destruction of two copper pans. 

Sanji carefully excused himself to return to the kitchens, hoping no one had been murdered yet and intent on creating enough food for Luffy without depleting the storage too drastically. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  
  


“So you, uh, like rum?”

 

Zoro slid his one eye over to the thin man. He wasn’t completely sure if what Gin was saying was a question of not, and even if it had been, Zoro didn’t feel like answering. He didn’t particularly like Gin, and he wasn’t going to start liking him now. 

He grunted, returning to the rum which, yes, he did like. 

 

“Be nice, Zoro. Gin’s a close friend of Sanji’s after all.”

 

Zoro glanced over at Nami, catching the shit eating grin on her stupid freckled face. He knew what she was playing at, and he knew that  _ she  _ knew that he knew. She was going to play it anyways though, because  _ Nami _ . 

 

“You visit Sanji a lot, right Gin? You must love his cooking!”

 

Chopper’s comment had Gin’s ears turning red, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Chopper was oblivious, munching on the strawberries in front of him. 

 

“That’s right, you’re probably Sanji-kun’s number one fan, Gin. I mean, for the  _ food  _ of course.”

 

Zoro bit down on a growl in his throat at the same time Gin’s face started matching the strawberries. Zoro was very much aware of the,  _ admiration _ Gin had for Sanji. Cut down and honest, Gin had a crush the size of Noah on the blonde, and the only thing that made it more obvious than the fucking sun was that Nami had to  _ rub everyone’s nose in it. _

 

“I just really like- the food. It’s really good food, you know?” 

 

Nami’s smile stretched a bit, showing teeth. She stabbed Luffy’s hand with her fork without even looking.

 

“Well I’m sure  _ Zoro  _ here is going to be enjoying all the cuisine, staying on the ship as he is.”

 

If he could have gotten away with it, he would have kicked her under the table. He was tempted to tell her to go help out Sanji with cooking, since she sure loved to  _ stir the fucking pot _ . 

 

“Ah...so, you are, uh, here to stay? With Sanji-san?”

 

Zoro slid his eye back to Gin, who looked torn between his fear of the swordsman and his affronted jealousy. Zoro didn't know  _ why _ he felt rivalry with this man when he was so clearly below any of their level. He had been beaten by Sanji a long time before the cook had reached a peak in his strength, and by now Gin didn't hold a candle against even a half assed attack by any of the straw hats. If Zoro was sure of anything, it was that Sanji would never share his life with anyone he didn't consider an equal. Well, unless they were a particularly pretty face and an impressive pair of breasts. However, seeing as Gin had neither of those, Zoro felt confident in Sanji’s rejection of the man.

 

“Don’t you worry, Gin. Zoro here is just going to be working here until he pays off his debts to me.”

 

Nami smiled sweetly at Gin, who visibly relaxed. Zoro  _ really  _ wanted to kick her, debt be damned. It also stung just the smallest bit that he couldn't exactly argue against what she said. He was an employee to Sanji, and nothing else. Luffy was reaching for Chopper’s plate, and Zoro grabbed him by the ear. 

 

“So basically I’m stuck here forever, is what you’re saying?”

 

Nami turned to Zoro, widening that sickly sweet smile. 

 

“Funny, since that’s something you wanted anyways, wasn't it, Zoro-kun?”

 

Zoro felt the tips of his ears flare red, wondering for the millionth time what he could possibly do to get Nami to start being afraid of him. He might get away with cutting off all her hair, if Sanji didn't kill him for it. 

 

“Hey, if Zoro’s the world’s greatest swordsman, won't a bunch of people start coming here to challenge him? I don't think Sanji would like that.”

 

God did Zoro love Chopper. He’d have to get Sanji to make the fuzzball some more maca-something cookies. 

 

“I’ll handle them. So far it's just a bunch of dumb kids that only made it to the grand line out of sheer luck.”

 

Nami muttered something about a green-haired child getting cut in half once. Zoro chose to ignore it, letting Luffy snag food from his own plate. Sanji would probably be out soon with more food anyways. 

 

“But don't you think it's interesting? Zoro first met Mihawk back at the Baratie. Wouldn't it be symbolic if Zoro met the next generation’s greatest swordsman here, where the Baratie is still docked?”

 

Nami and Gin both looked to Chopper, and then to Zoro. Apparently no one had thought of this, including Zoro. Luffy gulped loudly, looking at Zoro with expecting eyes. 

It did make him wonder about the future of his title. Would Sanji watch as Zoro cut down some kid in preparation for the future, the same as Sanji had watched Zoro be cut down in his own lesson? Zoro shook his head. All of this was a long ways away, and somewhere a child was nothing more than a child, but would one day be strong enough to face Zoro. 

 

“If it happens, it happens. The location doesn't mean much.”

 

The four other people let out a collective sigh of disappointment. So much for great wisdom from the world’s greatest. Luffy began stuffing himself again, but with less gusto. 

 

“Don't you think Zoro’s kid is gonna be the next world’s greatest swordsman though?”

 

Zoro choked on his rum. Nami smacked Luffy in the head.

 

“This idiot can't even take care of a boat and gets lost in a circular room. Like hell he can be responsible for some kid!”

 

Luffy just laughed. Zoro took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. 

 

“Well Sanji can take care of it! Think of all the good food they’d get to eat!”

 

Nami smacked her own forehead as Gin started choking. Zoro was trying very hard to breath again. 

 

“What’s this about Eggplant and having kids?”

 

Zoro prided himself on being keenly aware of his surroundings at all times. His observation haki may not be as good as Sanji’s, but it beat a large amount of the entire world. How an old man with a  _ peg leg  _ managed to continuously sneak up on him and scare the shit out of his god damn soul was beyond Zoro. 

 

“Oh yeah, if Sanji had a kid it would be a cook, not a swordsman! Oh, but I guess you could have two. Hey old man, how many kids do you think Zoro and Sanji should have?”

 

Zoro was going to kill the pirate king. He was going to take out his sword, and murder the king of the pirates at the All Blue floating restaurant and have to be on the run for the rest of his life. Gin looked on the closer side of death himself, and if Nami kept hitting her own forehead she was going to need a bandage. Zoro took a long sip of rum, determined to not look in Zeff’s direction. 

 

“You’re missing a big step in there, boy. Do I dare ask if you even know where kids come from?”

 

Luffy opened his mouth just as Nami covered it. Small blessings, Zoro thought. 

 

“Nami-swannnn!! Did you get your special tart?”

 

The entire table stiffened as Sanji twirled around, throwing dishes at Luffy and more gently placing them in front of Gin and Zoro. Luffy nearly ate Nami’s fingers in his rush to continue gorging. 

 

“Ah, Yes! Zeff  _ just  _ brought it over.” 

 

She took a larger than necessary bite, looking in various directions. Zoro decided to do the same. Zeff narrowed his eyes at the swordsman, but kept his lips shut. 

 

“Oi, Chopper, you’re still not done eating?”

 

Chopper jumped, casting a quick glance st Sanji before stuffing his face with almost as much gusto as Luffy. Sanji looked pleased though. Franky walked over and sat down heavily, a broken ladle hanging from his shoulder. 

 

“Sanji-bro, want me to show you those new dishwashing systems I was talking about after breakfast?”

 

Zeff grunted, taking a few plates and leaving them, mumbling about shitty robots. Sanji let him get out of earshot before giving Franky the affirmative and following the older chef back to work. Franky dug in, looking around the table at everyone’s tense silence. 

 

“That old man can sure pack some power in a wooden leg! Anyways, what’d I miss?”

 

Luffy tore into a pile of eggs, speaking with his mouth full and scatting bits from his mouth while everyone shielded their own food. 

 

“Do you think Zoro and Sanji should have more than two kids? Because one can be a swordsman and one can be a cook, but what about a  _ swordsman-cook _ ?”

 

Franky looked over at Zoro, raising a brow. Zoro took a deep sip of his rum, pretending the conversation wasn't happening. Gin seemed to be in that boat as well. 

 

“If they had a swordsman-cook, wouldn't they just need the one? Or can you not be the world's greatest swordsman and a chef at the same time? Maybe if you had a traveling kitchen…”

 

Franky began mumbling to himself, making up blueprints in his head as he ate. Luffy still seemed star-struck by the idea of a swordsman-cook, and Nami and Chopper had decided eating while food was still on the table was their best course of action. 

Zoro loved his nakama, he really did. But god damn. God damn.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'll figure out the wifi shit soon so hopefully I can update sooner!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji is oblivious, Zeff is just trying to take a nap, and Nami is and always will be the biggest lesbian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STILL NO INTERNET posting at a friends place sorry i havnt responded to comments update soon sorry sorry sorry

  


 

 

“So before we get to the dishwasher, how hard would it be to add an extra bedroom?”

 

Sanji was taking Franky around the kitchen while the staff were all shooed out on break, since knowing Franky, there would be a lot of taking things apart and making a mess.

 

“That place is so jam packed that you might want to consider adding an extra floor, bro. I mean, you got what, 40 staff members?”

 

“53, not including myself.”

 

The establishment was larger than the Baratie had ever been, after all. More chefs, full time waiters and the in and out dishwashing staff and supply runners.

 

“Yeah, so maybe you wanna expand a litte, get some extra room. We could add maybe 10 more to another floor, but we can't push the weight too much.”

 

Sanji didn't like the idea of expanding the size of the ship already. Everything still felt new, and he liked the idea that it could be contained, manageable. The bigger it all got the more shit there was to deal with.

 

“There's really no space for another room on any of the floors we have?”

 

Franky hummed, pulling two hose pipes apart and doing something with them, making Sanji wince.

 

“Not really, it's a full house down to the storage. What about the Anko, or Nasug-

 

“We are _not_ mentioning that ship.”

 

Franky laughed, probably remembering all the times Sanji had tried to bribe him into burning it down.

 

“Well right now the only option would be adding a floor. Any reason why you want more space? Thinking about hiring more people?”

 

Sanji sighed, grabbing a mop as the sink Franky was fiddling with started leaking.

 

“Just wanted to see if there was a quick solution to getting Zoro a guest room. I have no idea how long he’s gonna be here at this point, and I’d like my space back.”

 

“Oh yeah, and you just have the single bed, huh.”

 

Sanji blushed a bit. Of course Franky _would_ know that, since he made all the rooms and furniture.

 

“Yeah, and it's not really great for two grown men-

 

“Say no more, cook-bro! I’ll get on it right away. I wanted to go upstairs anyways, see if I could slip some blueprints for prosthetics under the old guy’s door, eh?”

 

“Hey, it’s your funeral.”

 

Sanji could only pray that Franky wasn't talking about his ‘super special spice rack leg’ design anymore. Having a knee for a pepper grinder was, surprisingly, not an interest of Zeff’s. The sound of the door opening drew his attention.

 

“Sanji! Do you have any mint I could take with me? Luffy ate it all out of my medicine cabinet.”

 

Sanji bent down to pick up Chopper before he slipped on the wet floor. He maneuvered around the puddle, taking the small guy to his own personal herb area.

 

“He’s started eating things out of there? That can't lead to anything good.”

 

He handed Chopper a bottle of the mint, smiling at the way the small hooves clacked against the glass. It was a sweet little nostalgic sound.

 

“Well, I don't think there’s usually anything in the medical bay, so he got curious. I’m worried about Luffy traveling without a doctor, too. Maybe I should take an extended vacation…”

 

“You could always ask a colleague to go. That’s what I did.”

 

Chopper shook his head, horns almost hitting Sanji in the face.

 

“Oh no! I work with medical professors and students who are interested in learning and healing! No one would want to go on the ship of the pirate king, they’d be too intimidated! Plus they’d always be in danger, and never know when they’d come home.”

 

Sanji nodded. Most of his chefs were solitary people, without homes or families and committed to a life at sea. This wasn't some safe little island, after all. Everyone had to be prepared to take risks.

 

“Well, I’m sure Luffy will be fine. Nami-san always keeps track of him, and he knows where you are. Can't see why Zoro won't just travel with Luffy though…”

 

“But it's so cool that he’s here! He missed you a lot when you were setting up the restaurant, and Nami said he was moping around all the time.”

 

Sanji laughed. Zoro would always deny it, but he did mope around like a giant 2 year old at times.

 

“I’m sure the marimo would be much happier sailing with Luffy, but for now I’m stuck with him, so I’ll take care of him. Someone’s gotta look out for the world’s greatest swordsman, right?”

 

And honestly, if it wasn't Sanji, who would it be?

 

“Yo, cook-bro, looks like you got a problem outside.”

 

Sanji placed Chopper on his shoulders, stepping by Franky to see what the problem was. Hopefully not another chef fight over sauce recipes, which had been the theme of the entire last month. Hearing arguments about the exact amount of tomato paste vs. sauce to add with garlic got old very quickly.

It might have been better though. Opening the doors to the deck he saw Gin, standing with his chair toppled behind him with an equally agitated Zoro. The two looked about one second away from brawling, and as much as Sanji respected Gin, he wasn't interested in cleaning up his organs if he tried fighting Zoro.

 

“Oi! There’s still food on the table, that means shut up and eat!”

 

Chopper nimbly jumped down, returning to his chair to show Nami the mint. She seemed entirely unconcerned with the events at the table, which was one small blessing for Sanji at least. He couldn't bear the idea of his precious Nami-san being disturbed.

Zoro and Gin were still glaring at each other, albeit now from their chairs. Gin, thankfully, continued eating again. Zoro just sat with his arms crossed.

 

“ _Eat,_ marimo. Where the hell is Luffy?”

 

Zoro grumbled, looking over at Sanji and stabbing a bite of melon.

 

“Dunno. Somewhere.”

 

Sanji ground his teeth. At least all the freezers were Luffy proof.

 

“I gave you a job, asshole. You’re the one on Luffy duty.”

 

“Hey, you said watch him while he eats, not follow him around.”

 

“Oh, of course, that’s be near impossible for _you_ , since for every three steps you take, one is going the wrong way.”

 

“Big words coming from a walking dartboard.”

 

“Wow, never heard that one before. Is your creativity as limited as your sense of direction? Or just as small as your brain?”

 

The swordsman opened his mouth, but Nami clapped a hand on his shoulder, digging her nails in.

 

“Play nice, Zoro. You have a _paycheck_ to earn, after all.”

 

Zoro looked torn between arguing with her and Sanji, so with a huff, he downed the rest of his rum, stuffed the rest of the fruit in his mouth, and left the table. Typical caveman manners and all.

 

“Sanji-san, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something, if you’re not too busy.”

 

Sanji turned to Gin, who still looked like he had his feathers rumpled from whatever he and Zoro had been at odds over. Sanji nodded.

 

“Of course. There’s plenty of time before I need to get set up for dinner.”

 

Gin smiled, then faltered, looking a bit embarrassed.

 

“Is it possible it could be, ah, more private?”

 

“Absolutely. I have an office, but Zeff mostly uses it to nap in. We can talk there, once you’re done.”

 

Gin nodded, looking relieved. Sanji turned, deciding he’d have to make sure Franky wasn't changing up the kitchen too much. He missed the way Nami and Chopper exchanged a look, both excusing themselves with one last look at Gin. Alone at the table, Gin ate as best he could, trying not to sweat profusely.

  


-oOo-

  
  
  
  


Zeff was sleeping in the office.

Sanji’s eyebrow twitched as the man snored away, looking very comfortable in the plush leather seat behind the desk. As tempted as Sanji was to dunk his head with a bucket of ice water, he knew the old chef needed the time off his feet, and damn it all he _was_ retired. Still though.

 

“Why always in the office? You have a bed right upstairs…”

 

Sanji grumbled, moving around and cleaning up scattered budget papers and floor plans. Month old seating arrangements and color charts for table cloths took up most of the desk area, since honestly Sanji never used the space. If he had paperwork that needed tending to he usually just brought it up to his room. He trashed a few unapproved menus and moved about with his usual noise level, knowing that he’d have to drop a cannonball to get Zeff to wake up if he was really out for the count like he seemed to be.

 

“Sanji? Are you in there?”

 

A hesitant knock sounded outside, and Sanji moved to let Gin in.

 

“Hey, sorry it's such a mess. Come on in.”

 

“Oh no, I’m sorry to intru-is that Zeff?”

 

Gin jumped a little as Zeff gave a loud snore, and Sanji kind of hated himself for almost smiling fondly. He patted Gin on the shoulder, leading him to one of the spare seats.

 

“Trust me, he’s practically dead right now. So what did you want to talk about?”

 

Gin looked torn, eyes going back and forth between Sanji and the sleeping not-beauty. Whatever inner battle he was going through must have settled, because he heaved a sigh and turned to Sanji.

 

“Well, first, I guess I just wanted to clarify something, uh, personal. About you. If that’s ok.”

 

Sanji blinked. He wasn't sure what Gin wanted to know, but he didn't really have any secrets left after the whole Vinsmoke fiasco. He’d had plenty of news articles written about him and All Blue, and even if half the world didn't quite know his face, they knew his name and where to find him. None of the straw hats were really known for being private people, unless you counted Robin who just disappeared entirely when she felt like it.

 

“Sure I guess. Ask away.”

 

Gin inhaled loudly, and if Sanji was being honest he looked a little ill. Well, more ill than usual.

 

“Are you-I mean to say, is. You. and Roronoa Zoro-

 

Gin took another deep breath.

 

“ _Areyoutogether?_ ”

 

Zeff chose that time to give another hulking snore, causing both men to jump a little. Sanji shook his head, raising an eyebrow at Gin.

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

“You and Roronoa, uh, together. I mean-! Are you?”

 

Sanji had to process that for a second. Together. _Together._ Together?

 

“What, like... _together_ together?”

 

Gin nodded, looking like he might throw up. Sanji gave him a second.

And then burst out laughing, only just covering his mouth so he wouldn't wake Zeff.

 

“Pff-aha, you though-haa, haha, _hell_ that’s funny! Heh, oh boy, _no._ No. God. No.”

 

Sanji wiped his eyes, giggles still itching his throat. He suddenly imagined Zoro calling him sweetheart and almost burst into another round of laughter.  

 

“...oh. I guess it's just one sided then..”

 

Sanji let the rest of his amusement die down. He didn't want to be rude to Gin, after all.

 

“One-sided? Trust me, the dislike is mutual.”

 

“Not the-nevermind. Hell, guess I was way off.”

 

Sanji pulled out a cigarette, but thought better of it and tucked it back in his pocket.

 

“What, you really thought the marimo and I were a thing? Come on, Gin.”

 

“I guess I just thought-well it doesn't matter I guess. You just seemed...close. And then Nami-san said there was only one bed in the room, so I thought...that.”

 

Sanji spluttered. Did everyone on the entire ship know his sleeping arrangements!?

 

“We just don't have any guest rooms, ok? Look, the brute is just an employee for the time being. Albeit a very bad one.”

 

Sanji looked over at Zeff, remembering it was him who had throw Zoro into his room in the first place. Stupid old goat.

 

“Well, I guess now that that’s cleared up, um. I, uh.”

 

Sanji looked back at Gin, who still looked under the weather and very uncomfortable.

 

“Well, Sanji, what do you think. About- about me-you know. That?”

 

There was an uncomfortable silence as Sanji processed and Gin sweated, and then-

 

“Oh!”

 

“Oh?”

 

Sanji rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward himself.

 

“Well, Gin, it’s nice of you to offer and all, but-

 

“But?”

 

Sanji took a deep breath. He felt bad, he really did, but this was for the best.

 

“But I don't think you’d be a good fit working here. Trust me, I know you wouldn't be useless and could help at things, but I have a full staff and Zoro working here is really just a shit show on the side.”

 

He did really feel bad, but Sanji knew Gin didn't cook and he didn't even really _like_ fighting, and so what would be the point? Maybe he was low on money, or wanted to settle down like Zoro, but this wasn't that kind of place. Surely not for Gin, who was meant to be out sailing.

 

“...Working...here?”

 

“I’m sorry. But if it’s because you’re short on money I can always-

 

“No, no it's. Ok. um. Shit.”

 

“I just didn't think you’d be happy here, unless you wanted to be a chef-

 

“No, yeah, I mean, I don't. Yeah.”

 

An awkward silence followed, filling up the room and Sanji decided to fuck it and light up a cigarette.

 

“So, all good?”

 

Gin nodded, still looking a bit green.

 

“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Sanji.”

 

“Right. I’m gonna go check on Franky, make sure he’s not trying to build something crazy.”

 

They nodded stiffly, and Sanji slipped out the door. He promised himself he’d make it up to Gin, get him a really nice bottle of wine and pack him up with food for weeks when he left.

  


-oOo-

  


Gin stood in the office, not quite sure what had just happened. Behind him, Zeff opened his eyes.

 

“Fucks sake. Remind me to lock the door next time.”

 

Gin screamed, falling backwards over his chair.

  


-oOo-

  


Zoro had gone looking for the showers and ended up in Sanji’s room. Their room? The bunk room that wasn't a bunk room. The completely platonic bed sharing room. Zoro decided shutting those thoughts down would be a great idea.

Except he couldn't, because there was a new bed in the room. A noticeably bigger bed, perfectly sized for two human men. There was also no other bed in sight. Zoro went to check the door again, confirming the neatly written _head chef_ on it, and turned back to the bed. It took up almost the entire room (really, what kind of owner gets such small quarters?) and was just as normal as the previous bed but, again, it was _one single bed_.

Was Sanji fucking with him? No, if Sanji was pissed at him (well, more pissed at him than usual), than he would just cut off the booze supply. Or kick him. Probably both. Was it Robin? She had her ways even across seas. Zoro’s first instinct was to blame Nami, but Nami didn't spend money to enact revenge. Was it the old man? Zoro still didn't have a firm grasp on Zeff as a person, but this still seemed a little too weird for Sanji’s normal-level-weird dad to be a part of. Zoro touched the bed, remembering when Usopp had pranked Brook by loosening all the ropes and bolts in his bunk, which hadn’t worked since Brook weighed maybe 4 pounds in wet clothes. The bed stayed standing though, and Zoro fell on it, relaxing into it's comfort.

Zoro decided he’d let Sanji deal with this as a problem. For now, he’d take a nap.

  


-oOo-

  


“He’s probably taking a nap somewhere. I’m sure he’ll show up when he gets hungry.”

 

As palcating as Nami always was and forever would be to Sanji, the head chef still felt peeved at another meal missed due to Zoro’s lack of direction. The marimo had gotten used to Sunny in about a week, able to find the bunk room and the bathroom in first tries after a whole 7 days give or take. The All Blue restaurant, paired next to the Baratie, was practically a jungle for the idiot swordsman. Sanji would be lucky if Zoro figured out the places layout in a year. Not only was Sanji unhappy about one of his crewmates missing a meal, but he also had to worry about Zoro messing with something or someone in a surely negative way. He couldn't risk the swordsman pissing off one of his staff and causing them to leave, or getting into a fight with them and severely hurting them. And of course there was only a matter of time before someone heard about a famous green-haired moron staying at a certain floating restaurant before swordsman challenges started popping up. This would NOT become some finely decorated arena for Zoro to destroy while beating up various idiots.

 

“I could try and follow his scent, if you want.”

 

Sanji smiled at Chopper, patting his head and kicking Luffy at the same time, stopping him from stretching his hands to other tables.

 

“No, no, Nami-san is right, of course. He’ll show up eventually.”

 

Chopper nodded, getting back to his meal in a hurry as Luffy’s hands started changing targets. Franky had eaten earlier, saying he wanted to check on Sunny while there was still light. Honestly Sanji still wasn't 100% certain of Franky’s dietary restrictions or needs, since the one time the cook had asked if the cyborg was allergic to anything, said cyborg had just posed and said ‘only bad mojo, bro!’ which had led to Sanji never asking any further questions. The cook figured that If Franky was still alive today he had clearly figured his own shit out just fine.

 

“Maybe he had to make a phone call. Catch a ride or something…”

 

Ah, Gin, Sanji thought. Also so positive. Now there was a cheerful thought, though. Or even better, maybe someone just straight kidnapped the marimo. That way Zoro got a boat and some aggression out of his system, maybe a bounty or two to add to the collection. Gin’s mood had been going back and forth between deflated and confused before sliding over to a comfortable contentment at Zoro’s absence. Sanji wasn't that surprised. Zoro wasn't exactly known for making friends with others, after all. Still, the hostility Gin seemed to hold for Zoro was something.

 

“Nah, Zoro’s a man of his word when it counts. He may not be great at paying his debts on time, but he always does eventually. He’ll stay and do his work, whatever it is.”

 

Whatever it is indeed. Nami seemed confident in Zoro staying and working, but Sanji himself wasn't so much. He had been thinking about it, and work options for the marimo were pretty limited. Zoro couldn't be trusted inside the kitchen, and he certainly wouldn't be allowed wandering the dining areas where the customers were, and he’d only cause trouble in storage. That left supply runs, which Sanji already had trusted (and not directionally challenged) staff members take care of, and maintenance. Considering the ‘maintenance’ Zoro had done to the ship already, that option also seemed out the window.

 

“Neh, Sanji, is Zoro gonna be the taste tester? Because you should let me do that instead!”

 

Sanji frowned at Luffy. Zoro’s vocabulary for compliments consisted of ‘ok’ and ‘not bad’ and on the very rare occasion, ‘good’. Out of the two options, Sanji would probably choose Luffy over Zoro to taste test, if Luffy even knew how to chew before swallowing.

 

“I don't know what that idiot’s gonna be doing yet, Luffy. So far he can't even find the kitchens on his own.”

 

“I thought he was going to be a bodyguard? Like the ship’s protector!”

 

Sanji turned to Chopper, raising his eyebrow.

 

“In case you forgot, furball, _I’m_ this ship’s captain. If anyone’s the protector, it's me- especially considering the damage marimo has already done to it! As for bodyguarding, my chefs are all trained fighters, and they’ll just get soft if Zoro shows off for every shitty attack.”

 

Nami hummed, head resting in her chin and looking angelic while deep in thought. If only Nami had decided she wanted to work with Sanji…

 

“What if he was the official ship’s watch? He could stay out of the way, sleep, not really interfere?”

 

Sanji stood up suddenly, grasping Nami’s free hand.

 

“Nami-swan! You’re brilliance is only outshined by your beauty! It’s perfect for that moron!”

 

Nami retracted her hand, punching Luffy as he reached for her plate. She gave Sanji a bored look.

 

“Just don't think of it as a permanent solution, ok? It’ll work fine for now, but you can't keep the world’s greatest swordsman stuck in some crows nest for that long.”

 

Everyone at the table nodded, and Sanji sat down, deflated. Gin patted his shoulder, getting the blonde man’s attention.

 

“You never know, Sanji-san. Maybe he’ll realize he isn't suited to be here after a bit and find different ways to repay Nami-san.”

 

Sanji smiled at the man, not really for the words themselves because, well, the point wasn't for Zoro to _leave_ if Sanji was being truthful. The head chef recognized Zoro’s stubbornness and boredom easily, and whatever Zoro was working through he had decided he wanted to work through it on the All Blue, with a member of his nakama. Sanji was past convincing Zoro to leave, but now the dilemma of finding a suitable job for the swordsman had come.

 

“For now, he’ll be on watch. He can do that without getting in to too much trouble.”

 

Everyone at the table took a pointed sip of their own beverage, eyes averted. Sanji felt his smile stretch into a hysterical looking grin, his palms sweating. It was _watch_ after all, and Zoro didn't ever sleep through real threats. Zoro could do this. Sanji had to believe Zoro could do this one, simple thing. Maybe. Hopefully.

 

“Still, do you have to go so soon? All of you? It’s no problem to feed you all, even Luffy.”

 

Sanji knew he sounded a bit desperate, easily offering _Luffy_ of all people free food, but dammit all, Sanji had missed the hell out of the rubber moron, the fluffy doctor and the gorgeous navigator. Even though they’d been saying greetings and farewells more and more often, it never got easier when it came to the temporary goodbye.

 

“Sorry Sanji, but Nami wants to get to Alab-

 

Nami grabbed Chopper, pulling him into her lap and clasping his mouth shut with her hand. Chopper sat, frozen and wide eyed and Sanji blinked.

 

“Oh right! We have to get to Al-

 

The lump on Luffy’s head appeared immediately, steaming and causing the captain to rub his head, gritting his teeth and whining. Nami retracted her fist, not making a sound.

Sanji kept his lips sealed. He had no desire to die so young, and Gin seemed to think similarly. Luffy had no such fears it seemed.

 

“But I want to see Vivi too!”

 

Luffy hit the floor this time, head already swollen as Nami turned a pretty shade of pink. Things clicked into place in Sanji’s head, and a wide smile spread over his features.

 

“If you’re going to see Vivi-chan you should have said so! I’ll pack all of her favorites with you, the ones that can be kept in the ice box at least.”

 

Nami just nodded, still holding Chopper but in a much more gentle grip. Sanji had learned the hard way a long time ago that commenting on Nami’s shy nature when discussing her surprisingly gentle and genuine feelings for a certain princess led only to pain and money loss. As bold as Nami could be with everything else, her heart was just as soft as all humans tended to get in the hold of love. It was just another thing for Sanji to adore about the red head.

 

“I’ve got to set sail too. I like to check on the former crewmates, make sure they’re staying out of trouble, see who’s settled down and where. I’ll be sure to be back, of course.”

 

Sanji placed a hand on Gin’s shoulder, smiling at him. He understood Gin couldn't stay longer either, just as he understood how all pirates and sailors alike were people who belonged traveling on the sea. That thought sometimes ached inside Sanji, telling him to run away with Luffy once more. He wouldn't, but the ache was still there.

 

“I look forward to it, Gin. Bring some of them along next time, it’ll be on the house of course.”

 

Gin smiled big and bright, cheeks flushed like Nami’s. It made him look younger, even with his tired eyes.

 

“You’re too kind, Sanji. Really.”

 

Sanji took a bite of fish. _No such thing_ he thought. _No such thing._

  
  


 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone is gay and stupid as usual what else is new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who still doesnt have any fucking internet and their landlord is in scotland for some reason eyyyy god bless cafe wifi

 

 

-oOo-

  
  


Zoro was looking for the kitchen and found the storage area, and then decided to just go back to the room and found the kitchen, where he found Franky. 

 

“Yo! Zoro-bro! Like the new bed? It’s totally bulletproof and fire resistant!”

 

Zoro’s first thought was to ask why the fuck a bed needed to be bulletproof, then fire proof, and then why the bed was even  _ made _ , but Franky was  _ Franky  _ and did Franky things and, well, Zoro  _ did  _ like the bed. There were other things worth asking before any of those anyways. 

 

“Where’s the cook? Did I miss lunch?”

 

Franky laughed, and Zoro noticed there weren't any chefs in the kitchen, and that probably meant no food, and that was just fucking great. 

 

“You missed it by hours, bro! But don't worry, Sanji’ll whip you up something for sure. He’s out on deck with the guys.”

 

Zoro just hoped ‘the guys’ didn't include Gin. He was getting enough shit from Nami, now Franky and the bed, and he really didn't feel like dancing around Sanji with someone else there who wanted him to fall off a cliff. Not that he didn't want Gin to also fall off a cliff, but still. 

 

“Whatever. Where are all the other cooks?”

 

“Sanji-bro gave me full kitchen upgrade consent! This place is gonna make normal ovens look like caveman fires, just you wait and see.”

 

Zoro really didn't want to wait and see the sure to come tantrum Sanji would throw if his stove tops started shooting lasers, but again that just wasn't his problem. 

 

“Sure, great. When is Luffy heading out?”

 

“Nami said tomorrow morning, but that’s only if everyone can keep Luffy from busting into the meat storage. Again.”

 

Yeah, that had been a nasty fit on Nami  _ and  _ Sanji’s part. If Zoro hadn’t been training for years on end the barrel Nami had thrown probably would have broken something, and he hadn't even been the prime target. Hearing about their near departure still dampened Zoro’s mood, since he never knew when he’d get to see them again. He’d miss the hell out of Chopper and Luffy, and maybe spare some feelings for the witch. 

 

“Ok, which of the decks are they on?”

 

Franky gave Zoro a  _ look _ . 

 

“There's only one deck, bro.”

 

Zoro left before Franky had a chance to laugh. As the swordsman left the kitchen Franky gave himself a mental pat on the back. The straw hat cook and first mate really needed all the help they could get, and the bed was a nice step in the right direction. 

_ Young love, _ he thought. He’d have to call Robin later and give her an update on events.

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Nami was planting the suggestion into Chopper and Luffy’s heads that it was time to get back on Sunny when Zoro came bumbling out of a storage room. Sanji had gone to get their travel rations and packed snacks, and was apparently arguing with Luffy’s replacement cook on different metal grades and what best to use to keep the fridge secure from rubber hands. 

 

“ZORO! Did you decide to come with us!?”

 

Zoro looked over at Luffy, shaking his head before moving to join them. 

 

“Came to say bye for now, Franky said you were leaving early tomorrow.”

 

“Well we can stay lon-

 

Nami kicked Luffy, silencing him and glaring at Zoro. 

 

“Do  _ not _ distract him. We need to get a move on-

 

“-So Nami can see Viv-

 

“Shut  _ up _ , Luffy!”

 

Nami hurled the captain in Chopper’s direction, the little guy remaining smartly quiet. Zoro raised a brow. 

 

“What, you two official now? Doesn't that mean you can't rob the palace anymore?”

 

Nami brought her heel down hard on Zoro’s boot.

 

“First, that is  _ none _ of your business, and second, don't  _ you _ have something better to be doing? Like paying off your debt, hmm?”

 

“You breaking my toes won't make me earn money any faster!”

 

“Well then will it help you deal with the  _ other _ thing then?”

 

Zoro paled, taking a step back at the dark smile Nami was growing on her face. Luffy popped up beside her, held in Chopper’s strong point arms. 

 

“Are we talking about the thing with Zoro and Sa-

 

Chopper clamped a hand over the robber mouth, hissing at him along with Nami. 

 

“Not so loud!”

 

“Sanji doesn't know yet!”

 

“I don't know what yet?”

 

All eyes swiveled over to Sanji, balancing enormous bags and packages in his hands and on his head. Luffy and Chopper looked to Zoro. Zoro looked to Nami. 

 

“That...the soup Zeff made was amazing! Not as good as  _ yours _ of course, Sanji-kun, but close!”

 

Chopper and Zoro let out a quiet sigh of relief. Luffy hung comfortably in Choppers arms, swinging his legs around. 

 

“Oh my sweet Nami-san! I’ve become rude to your needs, having the old man cook for you! Please forgive me, I promise I’ll be the only chef to touch your meals next time you visit!”

 

Nami laughed nervously, accepting Sanji’s kiss to her hand. Zoro stuck his tongue out in disgust. 

 

“Well, good to hear! Um, I guess we better lock that up…”

 

Nami motioned to Chopper, who looked back and forth between the food and Luffy, and dropped the captain. He gathered the larger bundles as Nami eyed Luffy, giving him a sharp look she honestly didn't believe he would understand at all. She didn't quite trust Luffy not to blurt out the fact that Zoro was madly in love with Sanji, but a part of her still trusted him when it came to things that were important involving his nakama. For now she’d have to use that trust and rely on it, since she was still the only one on the boat with the code for the fridge. 

 

“Come on Chopper, I need to set up the pantry lock too.”

 

Another gift from Franky. With no Sanji to protect the dried goods during the day, another lock was required. Chopper obliged, following her with the heavy bundles into the galley, a space that no matter what replacement, would always be Sanji’s. 

 

“I’ll go get the rest.”

 

Nami just nodded to him, punching in the numbers to open the fridge so she could start storing. She’d never say it to his face, but she really missed Sanji. He was a sweet man with a cute face and a knack for giving her exactly what she wanted, which was all she wanted from any man. She suspected he had been one of the first to know about her feelings for Vivi, maybe second only to Robin, and he’d remained discrete and kind and so very  _ Sanji _ with his endless list of dessert options for her aching heart. Now that she had Vivi in her life, she wanted all her nakama to have someone special. Usopp had Kaya, Franky and Robin were apparently serious, Luffy had...well he certainly had a lot of admirers, whether he knew it or not was a mystery though. Chopper and Brook were beyond her, but damnit all, Zoro and Sanji deserved each other. Sanji deserved to be loved the way Zoro loved him, and it pissed Nami off just as much as it broke her heart that Zoro wouldn't just tell Sanji. 

 

“Nami, should this stuff go in the fridge or in the pantry?”

 

She looked over at what Chopper was carrying, noting that Luffy was attached to one of his legs, trying to gnaw at one bag. The dried meat, then.

 

“Pantry. Luffy, sit down and if you’re a good boy I’ll give you my bento later.”

 

She wouldn't, but he didn't know that. She’d save him the fat from the meat though.

 

“I’m a good boy!”

 

“Then sit.”

 

Luffy sat, but didn't shut up. 

 

“When do you think Sanji and Zoro will get married?”

 

Nami frowned over at Luffy, feeling the usual exhaustion of dealing with his stupidity cause her back to ache. 

 

“They might not even get together, Luffy. It’s not simple with them.”

 

Luffy picked his nose and Nami threw a spoon at him.  _ Men and their gross habits.  _ Luffy caught the spoon. 

 

“Why not? They love each other.”

 

Nami continued to pack the rest of the food in the fridge, giving Luffy a glance over her shoulder. 

 

“Look. Zoro may love Sanji, but that doesn't mean Sanji-kun feels the same. We don't know  _ how  _ Sanji feels about Zoro in that way and for all we know he’s never thought about it! I mean think about it, Sanji and Zoro can't even look at each other without getting into a fight, what kind of hope does that have for a relationship?”

 

Nami closed the fridge, locking it, before turning back to Luffy. She expected some sort of Luffy-wisdom comeback, something to give  _ her _ some hope for the idiots, but Luffy was looking to the side. 

She followed his gaze to Zoro, standing in the galley doorway. She caught the glint of pain in his eye that he would always deny, before he turned and left. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro didn't expect a lot of good from the world. He didn't believe he deserved it anyways, and with how fucked up and cruel life could be- with how fucked up it had made  _ him _ , he didn't see himself getting a happily ever after. Best case scenario, his successor would give him a nice clean death and claim their new title, and his body would get some form of grave. He didn't think that was something sad, just something practical and possible. There’d never been a single gentle thing gifted to him from life, and it sure as hell wouldn't be death. 

 

“Zoro, wait!”

 

He knew Nami hadnt meant to be hurtful. He  _ knew _ that. But fuck, it hurt to hear those words coming from somewhere else other than Zoro’s own head. All that doubt he always replayed in his mind, spoken from her mouth was a big slap to the face. 

 

“Zoro, you’re walking towards the cola room.”

 

Zoro switched directions, taking a sharp left. Nami came, hot on his heels.

 

“I didn't mean it, I swear! And that's the door to the women’s quarters.”

 

Zoro growled, turning again. He hadn’t been on Sunny in a while, and right now he just wanted to go somewhere to be alone, which was a hard thing on Sanji’s bustling ship. He came to a full stop, Nami bumping into his back, and Zoro could have punched himself. He had forgotten the crows nest. 

 

“Hey-Zoro! Zoro, I’m sorry, it wasn't my business-

 

“Yeah, ‘cuz  _ that’s  _ stopped you before.”

 

Nami took a step back, and Zoro used the chance to leap onto the rigging, climbing up to the nest faster than she could run. 

The moment he entered the room he knew it wasn't where he wanted to be. This place held memories, important ones, but they all belonged to a different Zoro. The one still reaching for his dream, still pushing his limits and underestimating the world. He was supposed to be better now, he was supposed to  _ understand  _ it all. The room should have been a reflection of his growth, but instead it just felt like a dirty mirror showing him his lack of progress. 

 

“Zoro, please, I’m sorry. I’m really,  _ really _ sorry I said that stuff.”

 

He sat down heavily on the bench, knowing he wasn't going to get rid of Nami unless he threw her out the window. 

 

“You mean you’re sorry I heard it, right?”

 

Nami joined him on the bench sitting a respectful distance away. 

 

“No, I shouldn't have said it at all, ok? It was just bullshit I was throwing at Luffy, it's not tru-

 

“It  _ is  _ true. Nothing you said was a lie, so you don't have to be sorry.”

 

She was quiet for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words. Zoro didn't really care, there was nothing she could say or do to make him feel better. He had started all this knowing it was a lost cause, and she had just validated it. 

 

“No, it wasn't true. You two have a really different relationship, and I don't fully get it, so I shouldn't be talking about it like that. You and Sanji aren't Vivi and I, so what the hell do I know?”

 

Zoro wanted to point out that Nami and Vivi had started out as enemies, literally fighting each other. 

 

“Nami, it’s fine. I knew nothing was gonna come of this, and you saying it doesn't change anything.”

 

Nami made a frustrated noise, pulling her hair a bit. 

 

“No! No, come on Zoro! You think I knew that Vivi liked me back when I told her how I felt? Or that Franky knew how Robin-

 

“Gross-

 

“-felt? No! It was just a huge gamble and I thought I would lose, I really did. I mean, Vivi didn't even give me a  _ hint _ that she liked me back!”

 

“Yeah, well, you guys were already close before that. It wasn't a huge step.”

 

Nami moved a bit closer, hitting Zoro in the arm. 

 

“It  _ was _ a huge step! I was ready to ruin our friendship because of how I felt, and I was  _ terrified _ . But now I’ve never been happier, and it's because I was only being half as brave as you are.”

 

Zoro thought about that. To him, it had always seemed like Nami and Vivi were together from day 1, but girls were weird and had always been outside of his understanding. But still, if Vivi had said no to Nami, they still would have been friends. Sanji and him might not even be considered  _ that _ . 

 

“The love-cook sees me as his least favorite nakama at best. I go at him spouting love bullshit and he’ll kick me onto the first boat leaving, and that’s just how it is. Me being brave won't change that.”

 

“Then why not just….change that?”

 

Zoro gave Nami a flat look. 

 

“Zoro, I mean it. This is a good chance to start again with Sanji, turn over a new leaf and all that. You’ll be spending a lot of time with him one on one, and that’s a good place to start. He trusts you so much, so show him that he can lean on you too. And, you know, try to be nice?”

 

Zoro rolled his one eye, earning him another punch to the shoulder. 

 

“Won't change shit, so why bother?”

 

Nami smiled then, not a scheming smile but a natural, gentle one. 

 

“Because love is worth it.”

 

Zoro wanted to call bullshit again, but he just couldn't argue with that one. He’d seen Nami hide tear burned eyes after Vivi left. He’d seen Usopp try and fail to write letters to Kaya. He’d seen their pain, he’d ached for his nakama, and they’d endured and fought and won. He’d only known the longing and the bruised heart, but he was still here, still fighting. 

They sat up there for a while, wrapped up in their own thoughts, thinking about love and risks and heartache. 

 

“Tell me about Vivi. About how she’s doin.”

 

Nami smiled again, and nodded. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji was organizing the kitchen when Zoro came it. It was late, probably 2am or so, and the other Straw Hat’s would be tucked into their bunks and ready to sail in a few hours. Sanji would be up anyways, and he’d be sure to wave at the ship as it left. They’d all done this so many times now, it wasn't so much a goodbye as it had been the first time. It still hurt, but underneath Sanji could breath easily knowing he’d see them all again soon.  

 

“Everything good on the ship?”

 

Sanji assumed that was where Zoro had come from. Either that or he had been wondering around, lost. Zoro grunted, grabbing a cloth and clearing stray crumbs from a counter. 

 

“Yeah. all good.”

 

Sanji hummed, satisfied. It was their job, the two of them, to always watch out for Luffy and everyone else. Sanji was able to rely on Zoro completely about these things. Always had. 

He reached beneath the counter, taking out a bottle and handing it to Zoro. They’d just prepared their nakama for departure, and alcohol seemed more than appropriate. 

 

“Here. I’ll grab glasses.”

 

Zoro took it without question, uncorking the wine in one quick movement. Sanji placed the glasses on the counter, and Zoro poured. 

 

“What were you talking to Nami-san about? In the crows nest?”

 

Zoro tensed, and Sanji eyed him up and down. Sanji could bet it had something to do with the debt, but he still wanted to know. It was his dear Nami-san, after all. 

 

“Just, y’know. Money.”

 

Zoro waved his hand around as he said it, dismissing it. Sanji didn't blame him, he owed Nami more with each passing day. And on that subject-

 

“Right, well, can you start keeping watch for the ship? Not many of the chefs here have observation haki, and I like knowing when a hostile ship is coming.”

 

Zoro seemed a bit thrown by that, which worked for Sanji. He didn't really want Zoro asking too many questions about that specific position, since Sanji didn't have any good reason for assigning Zoro to it other than that it kept Zoro out of the way. 

 

“Uh, sure. What hours?”

 

“I was thinking an all day thing, or at the very least from lunch to dinner.”

 

Zoro narrowed his eyes, and Sanji prayed that for once Zoro was just as stupid as Sanji insulted him to be. 

 

“That sounds an awful lot like getting me out of the way.”

 

“...I’ll let you join the pirate fights from now on.”

 

Zoro stood his ground, eyeing Sanji. The chef sighed. 

 

“Fine. And a bottle of whatever you want for each watch.”

 

“Deal.”

 

Sanji grinned. That was one mission accomplished. He frowned suddenly, a thought catching up to him. 

 

“Where  _ is  _ Franky’s boat? All the ones docked are too normal for his taste.”

 

Zoro just shrugged.  _ Useless marimo _ . 

 

“Dunno. He made you a new bed though.”

 

Well that was something good at least. Now he and Zoro could sleep easily in their own respective beds, even if it was in the same room. Sanju hummed, putting a cigarette in his mouth before thinking better and tucking it back into it's package. He was trying to get down to just one a day, better to save it for when it was needed. 

For now he wanted to change, he had been making calamari earlier and could still feel some sticky spots on his shirt from ink stains. He left Zoro in the kitchens with the rest of the wine, completely confident the swordsman would just get lost again. He wasn't worried about Gin leaving just yet, so he still had time.

Going up all the stairs and through the hallways, Sanji eventually reached his (and Zoro’s?) quarters, opening the door with his foot and undoing his tie. He threw his shirt on the bed, and rummaged around for a new one in the little drawers he had. His toe hit the bedpost and he cursed. Since when had it been so cramped in here?

Sanji blinked and gave the room a good once over, noting the very large and very much  _ one _ bed. He walked over to the door, checking that it was still his room he was in, and then looked back at the bed. 

 

“ _ FRANKY!! _ ”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


As it turned out, Franky hadn’t come in a ship at all. He’d taken inspiration from a one Trafalgar Law and made himself a personalized submarine, which he used for a quick and easy escape from Sanji’s wrath in the wee hours of the morning along with the Sunny. 

 

“Shitty robot comes in here, eats my food, and gives me  _ this  _ shit. He’s getting lugnuts to eat next time he shows his face around here!” 

 

Sanji stormed around the room (what space was left) while Zoro sat on the bed, looking far too comfortable for Sanji’s taste. He kicked Zoro’s leg, unsettling the man. 

 

“Oi! Untwist your panties already, it's better than that crappy tiny one!”

 

Sanji huffed, stomping over to  _ his  _ side of the bed, because he wanted the right side and if he wasn't going to be in control of anything  _ else  _ happening on the ship then he’s have the side he wanted, god damnit. 

 

“I  _ wanted  _ him to make you a room, so I don't get where this stupid idea came from.”

 

Sanji gestured to the bed at ‘this’. Zoro just rolled his eyes, unbothered. 

 

“As long as your bony arms aren't poking me anymore, I don't care.”

 

Sanji growled at Zoro, jaw so tight he thought he’d break his own teeth. He really wanted to break all of Zoro’s just then. 

 

“Well if I wake up with you  _ suffocating  _ me again, I’ll make you sleep outside!”

 

“Try it, shit-cook. I’ll just break into the pantry and sleep on those big bags again.”

 

“Don't you DARE-

 

A loud thud came from the wall, causing both men to shut up. Zeff had already come by once to tell them that if they interrupted his sleep one more time he’d tie them to the anchor and make them sleep with the fish. A threat that was close to empty considering the strength of both Straw Hats, but one not to take lightly considering who it had come from. 

 

“Uhg. I should have drugged you and thrown you body on Gin’s boat while I had the chance.”

 

Sanji stared morosely at his cigarette pack. He’s gone through two after the discovery of the singular bed Franky had made, and he was forbidding himself from more. Zoro grumbled from beside him.

 

“Right, because that guy could  _ definitely  _ take me.”

 

“Well, he does have a brain.”

 

“Oi!”

 

Zoro was reaching for Sanji when the second thud on the wall came, noticeably louder. The snarl on Sanji’s face morphed into a nervous glance as he eyed the wall. He couldn't guarantee the wood would hold up against Zeff’s anger. Zoro went still as well, falling back into the bed, with the cook reluctantly doing the same. 

 

“You’re such a-

 

“We can either call a truce right now and go the fuck to sleep or argue until your old man breaks the wall, you’re choice.”

 

Sanji was tempted to yell a  _ fuck you _ to that, mostly because he hated when Zoro was right. He bit his tongue and folded his arms, deciding that Zoro could eat eggshells for breakfast tomorrow for all he cared. 

(He’d get a full meal and lots of protein even if Zoro had insulted his very mother, but that didn't need to be said out loud or thought that clearly.)

Sanji fell asleep to the soft sound of Zoro breathing next to him, feeling the warmth burning off tan skin. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok the next chapter i have finally gets the ball rolling a bit more in the zosan direction sorry i've been slow on that part but hey slow burn is a slow burn eh  
> side note that Usopp is gonna be saved for way later! the boy is chilling it up with Kaya in syrup village and enjoying the hell out of being married and not in constant danger, so i'm letting him have that for a bit. he deserves it!   
> also Nami still totally robs the palace but Vivi still loves her


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji gets a morning surprise, Zoro gets an afternoon surprise. Neither are really appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY GOT ETHERNET EYYYY now I can be irresponsible and late at updating WITHOUT a good reason. Heres me, trying to get the ball rolling in the actual real Zosan direction slowly but surely. Swear to god I got spicy chapters later

  
  


 

 

Zoro was eating a melon when Sanji walked into the galley, took one look at him, and shook his head.

 

“You could have something much better, all you have to do is ask.”

 

Zoro shrugged. The galley in Merry was a lot bigger than he remembered it, and way more purple. Sanji was wearing a shirt that matched the wall color exactly, and the cuffs were dark like plumbs, making his long fingers look ghostly white. Even his nails looked white as they dig into Zoro’s wrist, forcing him to stop eating.

 

“I want to eat this. Let go.”

 

Zoro was tugging at the grip, annoyed. He just wanted to be left to his meal, but Sanji shook his head again, tutting. His grip on Zoro’s arm increased, making Zoro wince. It felt like claws.

 

“You don't want that.”

 

Zoro wanted to push him off and curse him nine ways to hell because he felt _tired,_ but suddenly Sanji was in his lap, licking into his mouth and the melon rolled away on the floor. Zoro didn't even think, his body responded automatically and easily to Sanji, same as it always was with the cook. He kissed him back and gripped the end of his shirt like he could knot himself into the fabric. Blonde hair tickled his cheekbones and when he reached out to run his fingers through it he swore he was touching water. He wasn't sure if it was because Sanji was melting or because he was, he only knew everything felt slippery in his mind and if it ended he would wake up feeling like he had lost his eye all over again. He wanted so desperately to know how Sanji’s hip bones felt in his palm. He wanted to know what Sanji’s eyes looked like when his ribs were kissed.

The melon rolled lazily around the room, and in the back of his mind Zoro knew it had to be a dream, because real Sanji didn't waste food.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Sanji woke up earlier than usual, sweltering in the arms of a green haired furnace. This had been an unfortunate occurrence since the first shared bed night, and somehow the first time Sanji had realized Zoro was a cuddler. Of course Zoro didn't seem to _know_ that, or he certainly never acted like he had been spooning Sanji most of the night in his sleep. For all Sanji knew, Zoro was dreaming of cuddling up with Chopper, who Sanji had to admit, was actually a fantastic sleeping aid and soft as hell. The cook began his attempts at wiggling out of the hold when he stilled, feeling his entire face heat up as an unspeakable horror reached his attention.

Zoro was hard.

Which was _normal_ , completely. It happened. But for _fucks_ sake was it awkward in this particular situation. But it was normal! Sanji totally understood that! Hell, he’d lived through the nightmare of waking up in Sunny to other male crewmates, well, _vivid_ dreams. But, again, different situation. Zoro was _literally_ holding Sanji in his arms, hard against his leg, and sleeping like a log.

 

“You’d sleep through someone setting you on fire, I swear.”

 

Zoro’s response was a breathy little snore halfways between a moan and a grunt. Hardly charming, but private enough that Sanji was back to feeling like his face would melt from the blush there.

Zoro was- attractive. Sanji had to admit this because Zoro just _was_. Despite his general sloppiness he kept a clean face and had teeth so straight and white it would make a marine graveyard jealous. His hair was ridiculous but anything else would seem odd on the man, and it was surprisingly soft to the touch. Everything else was just- Zoro. His whole was as familiar to Sanji as cooking, same as all his Nakama. He figured at this point, there wasn't a thing he didn't know about the marimo.

This included Zoro’s taste in the occasional port town bed-mate. Sanji had first figured that Zoro was one of those non-sexual bushido samurai types, the serious men who couldn't give a shit about anything that wasn't a sword or fighting with a sword. He’d met men before that couldn't give a damn about the stuff between their legs, and didn't even want to explore the notion of using it, and that was just one big _whatever_ to Sanji. So he had a crewmate that didn't do sex. Neither did Chopper or (he hoped to any god that existed) Brook. But then Sanji caught Zoro slipping away with a man one night when the whole crew was enjoying a tavern, and Sanji was thrown a loop for a good 3 seconds before that, too, just fell into the _whatever_ hole. Sanji guessed that Zoro was either very, very good at secretly leaving with men, or he was one of those almost-no-interest-in-sex bushido samurai types. Of course, Sanji could have figured this out if he cared, but honestly he had never _wanted to know_.

He _still_ didn't want to know! One the list of things he didn't want, right up at the top of the list was probably the situation he was in now, with Zoro having some wet dream about some random guy _right next to Sanji_.

Zoro gave a low huff, the air moving some of Sanji’s hair and tickling his skin, and the cook shuddered a bit at the intimacy of their position. He held his breath and closed his eyes, reciting a few souffle recipes in his head as he wiggled out of Zoro’s grip, begging his brain to turn to a different channel. He managed to get himself extracted from Zoro and the (admittedly comfortable) bed, when another terrifying thought occurred to him.

Had _he_ had any particularly, _fun_ dreams next to Zoro since they’d been sharing a bed? He couldn't imagine how awkward that would be for Zoro, or how fucking _humiliating_ it would even be for shits sake. He didn't think he had, but hell, Sanji was NOT one of those almost-no-interest-in-sex bushido samurai types and actually had a maybe more actiive than usual lebidos. He liked sex, he’d admit that. And, ok, there had been that one long month at sea where Sanji had _seriously_ considered Zoro as a fuck buddy just for some damn relief, but he had been 19 and practically made of hormones and certainly not thinking straight. Either way, as he was now was fine and all, but maybe this was a good wake up call that it was time to relieve the certain inch that he was sure to get soon.

Dresing quickly, Sanji made up his mind to spend a bit more time in the dining areas until he caught the attention he wanted. He knotted a dark aqua tie, knowing it made his eyes look nice, and closed the door behind him without a second thought to the man still sleeping.

  


-oOo-

  


Zeff woke up to the sound of his bones creaking alongside the mattress.

These days nothing in his body _didn't_ creak and ache, and his hair was more gray than blonde to boot. His leg stump hurt 27 hours a day, his back was a bastard from hell, and his damn son was being an idiot more than usual. Which was saying something considering the moronic endeavors Zeff had seen the eggplant get involved in.

Sanji had come clean to him about the about name ‘Vinsmoke’ during the construction of the All Blue restaurant. A father who had no right to be a father, a castle made on the backs of slaved animals, and an empire founded on the destruction of others. Brothers that left deep scars, a sister that left something, and a mother that gave him the ability to focus on how the sun would surely rise while everyone else focused on the rain. Sanji laid it all out on the ground, willing to let Zeff stomp it into the ground if he so chose. And Zeff saw his little eggplant, his _son_ . A boy- a man _he_ had raised, not this fake king of assholes. Sanji was Sanji, and Zeff had known the moment that boy dropped his knife and cried while bearing his paper thin skin over stuck out ribs that for as long as time allowed, Sanji would be his child. He told him so on the unfinished floorboards of the new restaurant.

So while Sanji may have grown into a strong pirate, may have overcome his past trauma, may have even found the god damn All Blue, the boy was still hopeless at romance. Now, _romancing_ was certainly something the eggplant enjoyed doing, but he also had a habit of confusing it with peacocking around and getting more on the seduction road. He didn't have a problem getting himself bed mates, which Zeff was _very_ unfortunately aware of, and if this made Sanji happy than who was Zeff to give a shit. But it didn't make Sanji happy, and that made Zeff unhappy. So throw in a bone-head swordsman that seemed to be as crazy about Sanji as Sanji was about cooking and Zeff figured, why not. This could work.

Except Zeff might have fucked up somewhere along the way raising a kid, because somehow, despite many, _many_ obvious efforts, Sanji didn't seem to get that there were _multiple_ people in love with him. And Zeff took that fault, decided to help out the idiotically green-haired man (god did he need that help), but still nothing. Eggplant was being thick as a wall and Zeff was honestly stumped. If Zeff thought this was something Sanji didn't want than hell, Zeff would have thrown the Roronoa fellow off the boat weeks ago. But that was just it; Sanji didn't even _know._ It was getting to the point where Zeff believed the only option left was for all the cards to be put on the table, and for Zoro to confess as clearly as possible and see what happened. This, of course, led to _another_ problem.

Roronoa didn't _want_ to confess. He seemed to have this notion that eggplant would react horribly, reject him, and maybe reject him as nakama. And now, Zeff didn't use this card often, but dammit all, he was _old._ He’d seen this song and dance with nakama before. He could tell the moss man at least a hundred different ways he was being an idiot, but it didn't change anything. Roronoa Zoro would probably rather die broken hearted than live without Sanji as his nakama, and that, Zeff believed, was what made his worthy of being a man to stand by his son.

That being said, Zeff could sense a storm coming the moment Sanji mentioned he’d be checking on the dining room that morning. His eggplant had come down wearing clothes a tad nicer than usual and insisted on serving a few tables right from the get go, which were all obvious as hell signs to Zeff, who thought Sanji might as well be a ballroom dancer for all the twirling he was doing for the pretty faces of the day. Sanji flitted in an out of the kitchen, always ready with the coffee refills, and by the time lunch rolled around there were customers staying longer than expected and eyes following the blonde shamelessly. All Zeff could do was roll his eyes along with a few other chefs, letting it all play out as usual. Zeff had to kick a few of the chefs, making sure their attention was strictly on the food, and not deterred by their interest in who the head chef would choose. The old man had decided that if eggplant was gonna sleep with customers, it was his choice by now and his own restaurant to boot. He could damn well make his own mistakes, and hopefully make those mistakes on some strangers boat and _not_ the room right next to Zeffs this time.

Which led to the main reason why Zeff was worried about the weather. A certain green-haired moron was certain to see what was going on soon, and Zeff didn't know what to expect. He’d met plenty of men who got violent when someone they wanted got taken by someone else, and he found himself hoping this Zoro fellow wasn't one of those overgrown 5 year olds. At this point though, Zeff wasn't sure if there was much he could do to help the swordsman short of telling his eggplant that a certain crewmate had a crush the size of the entire grandline on him. Which Zeff wouldn't be doing, since this was all Sanji’s choice in the end. Whether eggplant got married to the next person to walk through the door, ended up with Roronoa, or decided to pursue rock collecting was all up to Sanji, and Zeff would grumble to his face and support him all the way, damnit.

 

“Where’s the order for table 8?”

 

Zeff looked past Sanji, letting someone else hand him the food as the old man zeroed in on the patron of table 8. From a distance Zeff could still tell it was a man, dark hair and dark suit, holding a glass of white wine. Zeff looked at the food being stacked in Sanji’s arm, which was enough for two. Zeff raised a brow and his boy.

 

“Didn’t lunch break pass?”

 

Sanji bristled like a wet cat and gave Zeff a _look_.

 

“It’s called being _social,_ you old hermit. I won't be the type of owner who hides his face in the back all the time, it's not my style.”

 

Zeff wanted to say quite a few things on Sanji’s _style_ , but the man was out the door in that second, probably knowing all the things Zeff didn't need to say.

 

“You think that over there is gonna be a problem?”

 

Zeff turned to the Patty, following his pointed finger to a table now occupied by a one-eyed asshole arguing with a waiter. The swordsman was probably trying to get more of the imported rum, which had been put in the sealed storage container that Zeff was praying the moron wouldn't be able to find. He happened to like that stuff too.

 

“If it is, I’ll deal with it. For now the crab bisque will be done in 5.”

 

Zeff re-tied his apron, getting ready for the storm to hit.

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro had given up trying to get the snooty waiter to give him rum when he noticed that the cook the flirting with someone.

This was nothing _new_ of course, but Zoro still couldn't help the desire to strangle the next person who talked to him because of it. Hell, back in their days of sailing together, Zoro had watched with gritted teeth as Sanji disappeared with women, returning with lipstick stains or rumpled clothing or tousled hair or all of the above. The swordsman hadn't known he was jealous for a while, simply putting it down as protectiveness over his nakama. If anyone else in the crew disappeared with a stranger at night, he would have been just as concerned. That’s what he told himself.

That all changed when Sanji disappeared with a _man_ one night at a port town. The awakening in Zoro had been sudden and fierce, making him irrational and twice as hostile towards the cook for days. He had been angry, confused, hurt, and finally accepting that not only did he have feelings for Sanji, but feelings that _could_ be reciprocated without issues of gender, and Sanji still didn't want him. It’d been a harsh blow, realizing at the same time that he was capable of such strong romantic feelings while the cause of said feelings rejected him without even knowing it.

And that’s where Zoro was all over again, on the All Blue floating restaurant, eating something mind blowingly delicious while a prissy looking captain of something-whatever got touchy with Sanji. The cook was laughing lightly, being a certain type of charming he almost never was with anyone who didn't have breasts, and letting this asshole touch the skin on his wrist.

Zoro growled, stabbing whatever was left on his plate and stuffing it into his mouth. He _wasn't_ pouting. He was the world’s greatest swordsman, he had sailed with the pirate king and conquered worlds. He did _not_ pout.

 

“What the hell are you pouting about now?”

 

Zoro raised his one eye up to Zeff, hoping for once his scowl might actually strike some type of fear into the older man. Zeff just stared back, unflinching, holding a pitcher of water and five trays of stew. He passed all of it over to a waiter, and brought his hands to his hips as he turned his gaze to Sanji.

 

“I did warn you, boy. This is the same as any other fight, react too slow and you loose. Now eggplant is falling all over himself for another well dressed puff pastry and you’re scaring the other patrons.”

 

Zoro just growled again, disappointed there was nothing left on his plate to stab.

 

“Well are you just going to _sit_ there? Last I heard they didn't give the title _world’s greatest swordsman_ to some sitting-

 

“What, do you want me to just go _stab_ the asshole!? Or should I keep it light and just break his face?”

 

Zeff slammed his fist down on the table, making Zoro’s plate clatter. He leveled a glare at Zoro, mustache twitching.

 

“You’re doing a piss poor job right now proving to me that you’re serious about my boy. Any moron can come in here and follow eggplant on his heels with hearts in their eyes, just take that Gin fellow for example. I see people visit Sanji from all over the damn world, looking at him like he’s some prize to be won. You’re supposed to be better than that- you _have_ to be better than that, damnit! You’re _nakama_!”

 

Zoro felt shame stain his insides at those words. Across the sea of patrons Zoro caught Sanji send him a glance, but his attention was quickly recaptured by the man he was sitting with. The man pushed a plate towards the blonde, genturing to it, probably complimenting it, and Sanji smiled, so genuinely that Zoro really did want to turn away and pluck out his one remaining eye. He looked back at Zeff, standing there with who knows what kind of expectation.

 

“Whoever that guy over there is, he doesn't deserve the cook.”

 

Zeff’s mustache twitched, and Zoro watched an impressive snarl take over his face.

 

“And you think you do, huh?”

 

“No, I don't.”

 

Zeff seemed to pause at that. Zoro took a breath, making sure Zeff would let him speak.

 

“You know his past, right? With Germa?”

 

Zoro hoped he wasn't about to give away a well kept secret. God knows he didn't need Sanji not trusting him now over all things. But Zeff nodded.

 

“Eggplant told me the whole story. Can't say I’m that surprised, there were clues.”

 

Zoro nodded at that. There would of been strange cracks of trauma in Sanji’s childhood with Zeff, cracks that would have made the old man question who had left them.

 

“So you know what he came from, knew him through that shipwreck, saw him grow up and now you know him as he is. All that shit and struggle that he fought through, and then he found the one piece with the pirate king and set up a restaurant on an ocean that was supposed to be a legend. All that, and you think _anyone_ deserves him?”

 

Zoro turned back to Sanji, and he just couldn't help but smile at the way the cook was pointing at the dishes to this stranger. Sanji was probably describing the ingredients, all bright and vibrant with sunlight making parts of his hair look white.

 

“We wouldn't have made it two days in the grandline without him, and not just because he’s strong. I mean, you don't think about it at first, or you don't really appreciate it- when it's cold as hell and the rain won't let up, and he brings you something warm. He gives you life, and he makes it good.”

 

Zoro watched Sanji until he had finished pointing at food, excitedly talking about whenever he was talking about. When the cook looked back at the other man, Zoro looked away again, not wanting to see the looks they were sharing. That man was sure to be interested in Sanji, and he would probably show it. Zeff was still standing, probably judging Zoro for all the stupid shit he had just spouted. He wasn't sure how to react when the old man put his hand on Zoro’s shoulder, adding a small amount of pressure.

 

“That, right there. That’s what makes you better.”

 

Zoro wasn't sure he understood. He didn't think he was better, or he didn't know what he was better _at_ . Or _who_ he was better than. He only felt like less than who he wanted to be.

 

“Whatever I’m better than, it still doesn't make me good enough for him. I know that.”

 

Zeff just gave a short laugh, scratchy with age.

 

“No one’s ever gonna be good enough for that idiot in my eyes. But what you said-

 

Zeff leaned down giving Zoro a meaningful look.

 

“You love him for all the right reasons, and that’s gonna be why he loves you back.”

 

Zeff walked back to the kitchens, and Zoro just stared at his back. He appreciated the old man saying that, really, but it didn't make Zoro believe it.

What reason would someone as profound as Sanji have for loving someone like Zoro?

  
  


-oOo-

  


Sanji had a realization while what-his-name-attractive-man-someone was talking to him. His heart wasn't in the flirting. Hell, he didn't even remember this guy’s name, and it wasn't like he was _that_ desperate for sex even. Now women, women were special, because he didn't need to be flirting with them to enjoy himself. He loved pleasing women, spoiling them, making them happy, you name it. But he didn't feel like seeking one out for the night at the moment, and now he wasn't even feeling like entertaining this guy either. Maybe the morning thing with Zoro had just been a weird little thing. It wasn't like he _had_ to get laid regularly, he could survive without sex for fucks sake. Maybe it was just that he was getting tired of the _just_ sex thing. After all, he wanted that special someone in his life, someone to wake up to and without awkward goodbyes and a rushed breakfast. But how the hell was he supposed to start dating with his kind of life?

 

“-ji? Sanji-san?”

 

Sanji perked up, having zoned out of the conversation. He felt bad, the guy was clearly interested, well dressed and handsome with a kind disposition. Really, Sanji would normally be all over him.

 

“I’m so sorry, it’s just that I realized we don't have any dessert planned for tonight and I’ve got to start working on that. Please excuse me.”

 

Sanji stood and made a swift exit. A perk of dealing with men as his chosen partner was that he didn't need to waste much time with pleasantries. He adored doing it with women, but on a tight schedule he worried he wasn't giving them enough time. Most men he couldn't give a shit about though.

He passed Zoro on his way to the kitchen, and then backtracked.

 

“Aren't you supposed to be on watch?”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be cooking stuff?”

 

Sanji felt a vein tick in his forehead. Zoro seemed quite pleased with himself for that one.

 

“You know I won't pay you if you just keep sitting around, right?”

 

“Well what the hell do you want me to do?”

 

Sanji took a deep breath, hoping to not lose any patience he had left.

 

“The _watch_ , Zoro. go be on _watch_.”

 

“Well you didn't show me where the crows nest is.”

 

“Do you mean the really tall thing sticking out of the ship that looks exactly like _any_ other crows nest?”

 

Zoro shrugged. Sanji sighed and looked over at the very visible crows nest. It was enclosed, as was Franky’s design, but much smaller than the one on Sunny. Meant for function, less for comfort and a certain moron’s gym.

 

“Just find a way up, climb the mast if you have to. Otherwise it's no deal and no booze.”

 

That got Zoro moving. He picked himself up, dusted off food crumbs (disgusting) and stomped off in the wrong direction. Sanji let him go, figuring he’d either find it eventually or run into someone who could help him. Sanji returned to the kitchen, greeted by Zeff standing in the doorway.

 

“Where's the algae head going?”

 

Sanji maneuvered past him, checking in on his station. Someone had taken his garlic again.

 

“He’s on watch. If he ever makes it to the crows nest.”

 

“Hm.”

 

Well that was about a hundred syllables too short for the old man. Sanji turned around.

 

“Why? Don't tell me you want him to patch something again.”

 

Zeff sent Sanji a withering glare. Sanji didn't give a shit, he’d never let Zeff live that one down.

 

“Shitty eggplant. Don't let him stay up there without dinner, you hear?”

 

“Please, as if I’d do that.”

 

“And bring him his booze so he won't steal mine.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“It might be cold up there-

 

“Oh my god! Are you two suddenly best friends or something? What do you care?”

 

Sanji held his hands up, exasperated and utterly confused. Usually it took _years_ of knowing Zeff before the man would even give a half a shit about their well-being.

 

“I like him. Decent fellow.”

 

With that, Zeff went back to his own station, deep in concentration. Sanji stood there, shocked. _Nami_ hadn't even gotten that close to a compliment from the bastard yet, and Luffy was just about Zeff’s worst nightmare, but _Zoro_ was a ‘decent fellow’!? Sanji turned to Patty.

 

“What the hell did I miss?”

 

Patty just shrugged. Sanji felt dazed. He had to shake himself to get over to his station, quickly moving back into prepping work while his mind reeled.

 _Decent fellow._ Honestly, what the fuck.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro wondered if Sanji knew there was a ship with his face on it.

Or his old face. His old wanted poster face. Not really a great face, pretty damn funny since it was supposed to be Sanji’s. Did Sanji get it built? That’d be a little too narcissistic, plus Sanji _hated_ that poster. Weird.

Zoro had actually taken Sanji’s advise and climbed one of the masts. The fact that he was on the wrong one didn't really matter much, since it was the same view, so he didn't feel much need to climb all the way down again and go up another one. He could see a slow trickle of ships coming in and out, from large cruise ships to small traveling vessels, and the occasional supply boat. As far as Zoro could tell, none of them were pirates, and therefore he didn't care. Sanji and his ship’s reputation had spread pretty wide, so it might be awhile before an attack.

At least it gave him time to think. Zoro was pretty sure that Sanji wasn't going to be sharing his feelings anytime soon, and Zoro had to decide if he wanted to stick around and try his luck at this big impossible thing, or cut his losses and go back to random fights and finding the nearest tavern. He would rather pull out his teeth than admit defeat against anything, and he sure as hell didn't half ass things. His heart was all in when it came to Sanji, and he was pretty sure he’d die with it like that. Sailing together, fighting together, going to all that hell, Zoro didn't think he’d even find someone who he could stand next to the way he stood next to Sanji. He didn't think another person existed that could give Zoro what Sanji gave him, and he was prepared for that specifically Sanji-sized hole in his chest to never be filled. Nami and Zeff seemed to be all about encouraging him, but it was all starting to seem useless. For a while after finding the one piece, Zoro had assumed he could travel alone and move on from Sanji and let the heartache fade. It had actually made it worse, and he had missed the cook more than ever, so much so that one day he found himself on Nami’s boat with a map and a plan and he threw it all out the window and decided to go see Sanji instead. He couldn't think of a single damn reason to give Sanji for why he was staying so long, but like most things, winging it seemed to work out. Kind of.

Zoro liked it on the All Blue. He had to admit, having Sanji’s cooking everyday again was pretty great, and it was nice to have a sure place to sleep at night. There was also the undenying factor that being with Sanji was _safe._ Traveling alone meant always being on guard, always keeping haki strong and his shoulders tense. Sanji made things easier for him just by being close.

Zoro yawned, bored. He didn't have any of his weights like on Sunny, but he didn't feel the innate desire to train. He kind of wanted to fight Sanji again, but he kind of always wanted to fight Sanji. Or people.

 

“Hello again, Roronoa Zoro.”

 

“FUCK!”

 

Zoro nearly toppled over the railing, balance kept by a thin hand that tugged on his coat just enough to steady him. He batted the hand away, highly disturbed at being crept up on.

Even more disturbing was the face he was looking up at. Zoro knew it was rude as hell, but he didn't like her _face_ . It was so oddly similar to Sanji’s but still strikingly different. Also everything about her was just so damn _pink_.

 

“I didn't mean to disturb you, I simply saw you first and decided to announce my presence, and you do appear to be the ships watch of the moment.”

 

Reiju was acting like it was perfectly normal to be perched on the edge of the mast, as if she hadn't just carefully snuck up on Zoro _and on the boat_. Zoro wasn't actually sure what the protocol was for this, since Reiju and Sanji had a complicated relationship, simply put.

None of the other Vinsmoke had been near Sanji in years, and he doubted they’d suddenly start visiting. According to Nami, who the cook told _everything_ to, Reiju had dropped by, unannounced, to check on Sanji occasionally. Sometimes this was just from a distance, and Zoro suspected a lot of times Sanji hadn't even known she was there. Zoro had only met her once, briefly at the grand opening of Sanji’s All Blue floating restaurant. The greeting had included Sanji genturing to Reiju awkwardly, telling Zoro they were related, and leaving. Zoro had asked her why her hair was pink instead of blonde, and Reiju had asked Zoro why his hair was green instead of normal.

Zoro knew Sanji didn't _dislike_ his sister, but they’re weren't all that chummy. Reiju was also weird as hell, partially invincible, and an ex-assassin. All that made for a confused picture to Zoro on how to act around her.

 

“You know you could always just dock a boat and go say hi like a _normal_ person, right?”

 

Reiju gave a little smile. She rarely showed emotions, another key difference in hers and Sanji’s face. Reiju lacked the natural warmth in Sanji’s eyes, and was cold where Sanji burned hot.

 

“I prefer my whereabouts to be known only by the selected. Just by being seen, you give others power.”

 

Zoro looked down at the customers and busy waiters. Everyone on the boat was constantly moving, always doing something or saying something. He could spot Sanji’s blonde head poking out from the kitchen to yell something.

 

“Well, I’ve seen you. Has the cook?”

 

Reiju hummed, looking down with Zoro at the people. She didn't look quite as threatening in the sunlight, and maybe in different circumstances she would have just looked like a concerned sister. Just a woman seeking something.

 

“No, Sanji doesn't know I’m here. I haven't decided if I should disturb him or not. What do you think?”

 

Reiju turned to Zoro, and the swordsman realized she was asking him honestly. Which was just great because Zoro didn't have a clue what to tell her.

 

“I don't know, do you _want_ to see him? Or, let him see you or whatever?”

 

Reiji looked at him, calculating. She hummed again, looking down at the restaurant. Zoro remembered about what Sanji had said about his siblings once, about how they weren't human in the head. Reason and emotion did not form in their thoughts, only action and reaction and living and dying. It was all pawns and kings to them, and a king did not die for the pawns. Reiju wasn't quite like the others, but Zoro wondered if in her mind, she saw herself as the pawn or the king or something different.

 

“I do want to see him, but I also want him to be happy. My being here might disrupt that happiness, so perhaps it's best to leave as I came and not disturb his work.”

 

Zoro grunted. He couldn't argue with her reasoning, and whatever Reiju and Sanji did definitely didn't involve Zoro, so he was staying as far away from that as possible. Even if Reiju _had_ decided to say hi to _him_ , he sure as hell wasn't going to poke that particular hornets nest.

 

“How often do you spy on him?”

 

Reiju turned, making eye contact. Again, that searching, calculating look. Something a little not human.

 

“Not often. But it’s nice, to know he’s at peace and doing what he loves. Maybe one day we can sit together and eat something he’s prepared, but that’s still a ways away.”

 

“You could still try his food. He’d care about what you’d think, y’know.”

 

Reiju smiled somewhat softly. She looked into the distance, seeming lost in her thoughts.

 

“But he cares more about what you think, and I can't hold that against you. I’d glad you two have what you do. It reassures me, knowing Sanji is loved.”

 

Zoro flushed but didn't argue. Arguing against someone like Reiju was useless, when she had been trained by birth to gather accurate information, to understand, to _know_ . Zoro might have been able to lie to her about something unrelated to Sanji, but when it came to her little brother, Zoro was pretty sure Reiju knew _everything_.

 

“He’d still like it if you ate.”

 

Reiju just looked at him, melancholy and seeming much older than she was.

 

“I’d like to think he would.”

 

They continued to sit in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it weighed on Zoro. He wouldn't deny that he loved Sanji, and by extension he wanted Sanji to be happy, same as Reiju. Their interests aligned, and he could appreciate that.

 

“Wait here, ok? I won't tell him.”

 

Reiju nodded, trusting him, Zoro realized. The swordsman slipped down to the deck and followed a passing waiter to the kitchens. Sanji was waiting for him when he entered.

 

“Oi! You’re supposed to be on watch!”

 

“Got hungry. Could you make me something? I’ll eat it up there.”

 

Sanji opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously at war with kicking Zoro for leaving his duty and feeding him. Zoro knew which side would win, and sure enough Sanji huffed and turned to his stove. Since the cook thought it was for Zoro, it would probably be simple, but it’d still be good.

 

“Here. now get back to work.”

 

A plate was thrust in front of him, and he muttered a quick ‘yes boss’ before dodging a kick and leaving. It took him a minute to find the right mast again, but he somehow made it up without spilling what looked like fried rice and a bent fork.

 

“Here. eat.”

 

Zoro pushed the plate into Reiju’s hands, her eyes wide. She looked up at Zoro, questioning.

 

“He thinks he made it for me, so hopefully it's not poisoned. But I guess you’ll be fine either way.”

 

Reiju gave a quiet laugh, honest amusement in her eyes. She took a small bite, chewing slowly. Then another, and another until it was all gone. She wiped her mouth and looked at the plate for a long time before handing it back to Zoro.

 

“Thank you. For everything.”

 

Zoro made to brush her off, tell her it was nothing, but in an instant Reiju was behind him, whispering in his ear.

 

“If you ever hurt him, your corpse will never be found.”

 

Zoro swallowed, hand resting on his blades. He had never fought a Vinsmoke, with their bullet proof skin. She retreated, once again standing on the rails of the nest.

 

“It was delicious, of course. Thank you again, Zoro.”

 

And then she was gone, just as she came. Zoro stared at the empty plate, wondering if he’d ever get to have a normal interaction with one of Sanji’s family members.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reiju deserved way better than what she got, and I love her to death. I cant imagine her and Sanji jumping into the normal sibling thing though, since any relationship of any kind takes time to build and whatever Sanji had left from his childhood wasn't one to base anything on. It doesn't help that she has no direction herself for where to move, no experience showing affection. A fic I HIGHLY recommend that touches on the Vinsmoke children and their minds is sic itur ad astra by donutsandcoffee (https://archiveofourown.org/works/11509596). Anyways, Zoro and Sanji are different levels of horny and frustrated, Zeff is just frustrated period, everyone is a gay dumbass myself included, and this train doesnt have breaks


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News from Syrup Village

  
  
  


It took a few days, but Sanji had to admit that the larger bed was a blessing. Zoro didn't roll around too much in his sleep, and it was made so that neither disturbed the other when one got in or out of bed. The cook and the swordsman found a comfortable routine, with Sanji going to bed earlier than Zoro, and getting up earlier and preparing them both breakfast. Zoro stayed late to continue watch, which he didn't  _ have  _ to, but he did anyways since there was nothing else for him to do while Sanji organized and cleaned the kitchens with his staff. Sanji was beginning to accept that all of it was just the new normal, and his life had a sharper edge now with Zoro in the picture. It broke up the boredom, that was for sure. He still cuddled Sanji in his sleep more often than not, but luckily didn't wake up with morning  _ problems  _ pressed against Sanji’s thigh. Sanji honestly didn't think he’d be able to handle that on a regular basis, but thankfully it seemed like a rare thing. 

Zoro was currently taking a break from watch for lunch, sitting cross legged on the little employee break area where Sanji smoked. It was a gorgeous day and it put them both in a good mood, making for a rare and peaceful moment. Zoro ate happily at his falafel and Sanji hummed a mindless toon, letting the sea breeze play with his hair. He felt good. He was enjoying life, simple as that. 

A gull cry made him crack open an eye, noting the news bird circling overhead. More job applications, requests for interviews, and death threats, he was sure. He flicked a hand up to gesture for it to come down, and he stubbed out his cigarette. The sound of a plate touching the wood alerted Sanji that Zoro was done eating. 

 

“Thanks, curly.”

 

“Mm, yeah.”

 

The marimo had been more liberal with his thanks and little compliments. It was another reason why Sanji was feeling good, since hearing that his food was appreciated was always a big ego boost, especially coming from someone who so seldomly complimented anything. Zoro wiped his hands on his pants and left Sanji to sort the mail. Sanji was too relaxed to care if Zoro actually went up on watch or not. It was such a nice, lazy day, and even if someone attacked with the element of surprise, they wouldn't win unless they had at least three emperor worthy powers on their ship.

The clouds above them were small and puffy, reflected in easy currents. Sanji reached into his pocket, procuring the necessary coin for a newspaper. Zoro rolled up onto his feet, and yawned wide enough to crack his jaw. He poked Sanji’s shoulder.

 

“Booze?” 

 

Sanji rolled his eyes. Zoro had probably picked up on his easy going mood, and was willing to test it. The moron was being clever for once though, because Sanji was, in fact, willing to share some of his goods. He took his pile of mail from the gull, tucking the coins in it's pouch and wary of the beak. 

 

“There’s a barrel in the 3rd pantry you can have,  _ if  _ you promise not to touch any of the others. It's got a logo of a giraffe on it.”

 

Zoro gave a very pleased little smile, no doubt patting himself on the back because he thought he had enacted some grand plan and succeeded. Sanji was willing to indulge him, since Zoro so rarely used his brain and any act of mental thought should be rewarded, if for nothing else than the sake of his lonely single brain cell. Which was probably going to die thanks to the bourbon, but whatever. Instead of dashing off for the alcohol, Zoro stayed for a bit, watching the cotton candy clouds with Sanji. 

In the back of his mind, Sanji was forced to admit that Zoro gave him companionship he didn't know he had missed. On Sunny he had had all sorts of entertaining interactions daily, and 8 colorful sources of social interaction. On the All Blue, Sanji had Zeff and his chefs, but no peer to call his equal, and no one close enough among his chefs to try and breach into his life as a real friend. As narcissistic and egotistical as it sounded, Sanji was so far above most of the people around him that he no longer had anyone who could stand by his side. Either through intimidation or admiration, staff and customers alike placed him at a distance. But Zoro was right there with him, at the exact same level with something remarkably good and rare to offer Sanji by simply being with him. 

The cook gave a small, hidden smile, knowing Zoro couldn't see it. Who would have thought that the marimo would be such a needed asset to Sanji’s life.

  
  


“Guess I’ll head back to watch. Call me for dinner, yeah?”

 

Sanji hummed confirmation, and Zoro picked up his plate, no doubt about to spend 20 minutes looking for the right sink to put it in and then ending up lost in the pantries for a good hour looking for his booze. Sanji chuckled, wondering if the day would come where Zoro actually knew the layout of this ship well enough to not get lost. 

The thought surprised Sanji. He’d never considered Zoro staying long term, or really thought about how long Zoro intended to stay. Honestly, he’d thought Zoro would have gotten completely bored of life on the dining ship and disappeared to go find a town full of ruffians and cheap taverns a long time ago. It brought a new anxiety to Sanji’s mind, because now that he also thought about it, Zoro was bound to get a challenger for his title soon, and Sanji would be cold and dead at the bottom of the damn sea before he let some asshole kid with a sword tear up the ship with Zoro. Maybe he could call Franky, get a new dock made for fighting-

But that would be another long-term solution! Why was he even thinking about this? Zoro could leave the next day for all he knew, and the fact that such a thought made his fists clench and his chest hurt were promptly ignored. Shaking his head, Sanji took up the stack of mail, looking for a distraction. Maybe he’d get some really crazy job applicants, or even a cooking competition. He’d been planning himself on having a big competition for his chefs this year, sometime around Luffy’s birthday to add to the fun. He still needed to talk to Zeff about it. 

Sanji’s hands paused and his eyes widened at a familiar pen scratch over a large envelope, his name written in easy loops and curves, and the corner of the paper stained with something. 

_ Return address Syrup Village.  _

Feeling a smile already splitting his face, he ripped open the letter, letting everything else pile on the floor. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Zoro was somewhere in one of the cellars when he heard a high pitched yell coming from what felt like right above his head. He drew his swords and raced down the halls, taking random turns in his rush to get to the deck, knowing Sanji would kill him if he just busted through the floor. Again. 

The screaming continued, louder and slightly hysterical and definitely Sanji’s. It made worry prick at the back of Zoro’s neck, harsh and cold, because he didn't know  _ why  _ the cook was screaming and Sanji was the  _ strongest _ on the boat besides Zoro, there shouldn't be anything even close to-

 

“ _ ZORO! ZORO!!!” _

 

Zoro took a breath and decided the floorboards would have to take the hit, since he  _ needed _ to get to Sanji’s side. If the cook called for him in battle, he fucking came, and he did not leave his nakama if they needed him. He felt the floor under him splinter with the force of his jump, the wood above him cracking against the blunt edges of his blades. He rolled as he landed, wood showering the (thankfully) open air. 

 

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT BREAKING MY SHIP!???”

 

Zoro dodged a kick, still disturbed by Sanji’s yelling and the confusion of the situation. He looked around at a few startled patrons and some upset chefs. Zeff was squinting at them both from a porthole, looking very annoyed at the comotion. 

 

“Where’s the fight? Who is it? Marines? Is-

 

“HE’S-USOPP! HE’S! HE’S GONNA! AND-

 

Sanji cut himself off, throwing a piece of paper at Zoro, covering his face with his hands. Zoro paled, his pulse thundering in his veins. 

 

“Oi, what happened to Usopp!?”

 

Sanji just shook his head, blond hair falling around his fingers. His blue eyes peeked out, wide as ever. 

 

“WITH KAYA, ZORO! KAYA AND USOPP!!  _ KAYA AND USOPP!!” _

 

Zoro felt his blood freeze, the thought of Usopp  _ and  _ Kaya in trouble, or worse. 

His eye widened in horror and he caught the tears welling up in Sanji’s eyes, slipping down his reddened cheek. Seeing Sanji cry set something so primal and angry and  _ scared  _ inside Zoro, made him want to rip out whole bones and dye the ocean red. Frantic for an answer, his eye tore into the letter, taking in every other word. 

_ Townspeople. Doctor. Roof repair. Pregnant. Shooting lessons. Chili bomb.  _

Struck still, Zoro opened his mouth, gaping like a fish. He read slower, moving over the words with more care. 

_ -was bout a week ago now, the doctor said it was too early to say much other than confirm the pregnancy. Kaya already knows the important stuff, she could probably deliver the baby herself! She’s 4 weeks now, my beautiful Kaya, pregnant! We wanted to- _

Zoro looked up from the paper, at Sanji, crying like a fool with a smile so big it could compete against Luffy’s. Zoro just stared at him, stared at the paper, let the words keep rolling in his head. 

 

“Holy shit…”

 

He breathed it out like a whisper, running and hand over his hair, feeling a smile tug at his mouth. 

 

“Holy  _ shit _ .”

 

Zoro read it all again, eye running over the word  _ pregnant _ until a hand on his shoulder nearly made him jump. He looked up to Sanji’s watery smile, flushed and ecstatic. 

 

“He’s gonna be a  _ dad _ , marimo! Usopp’s gonna be a  _ father _ ! Our nakama!”

 

Sanji squeezed Zoro’s shoulders, and Zoro reached up, insticual to grip Sanji’s arms in return, holding tight and fast while the feeling of being struck by lightning subsided. Sanji’s face was red and he kept of crying little tears with a stupid grin in place. 

 

“Hell, I thought you were being  _ attacked _ , cook.”

 

Sanji laughed, tilting his head to the side a little, the sunlight following the glow of old gold in his hair. The smile Zoro felt on his face hurt his cheeks. 

 

“Our nakama’s having a kid, marimo. A god damn- a kid! And Kaya’s gonna be a mom…”

 

Sanji bowed his head forward, suddenly less energetic, calming down. He didn't seem to care that all this was happening right on deck with people around him eating and a big hole in the floor. The cook just bowed his head, pushed low and to the side and he shoved his face into his arm. His hand still curled over Zoro’s shoulder. All his warmth seeped into Zoro, cleaned his insides and made him want to keep the happiness in those blue eyes forever. Zoro wanted this Sanji, so happy and excited he was crying, to last forever. 

 

“...Usopp’s gonna be a dad.”

 

Sanji nodded into his arm, not crying anymore, just looking a little too overwhelmed. 

 

“Usopp’s gonna be a dad.”

 

Zoro wondered if Luffy had gotten the news yet. Or if anyone else had. He had an ache, suddenly, deep and back-breaking, to be reunited with all his nakama again. He wanted all of them there, sharing this news and this feeling, this beginning. He wanted so desperately to hug Usopp, hug Luffy, kiss Sanji. 

But he couldn't do any of that. And it hurt right down to the parts between his ribs, but he held tight to Sanji anyways. 

 

“It’s like getting a new nakama. Someone to protect.”

 

Zoro wasn't sure why he said it so quietly. Maybe because on the ship full of people, this moment belonged only to Zoro and Sanji. Even out in the open, this was only for them. Sanji’s blue eye caught his, flashing with all the brightness of the All Blue. 

 

“Yeah. Yeah, it's our family, growing.”

 

Sanji said it just as softly, hushed in that quiet joy he was so good at wearing. It made him the most beautiful thing in the world, glowing like the evening sun on a magic ocean. Zoro didn't know how the whole universe wasn’t constantly falling in love with him. 

 

“We gotta write back, make sure we know when to go visit, all that. We should coordinate with the others, get in touch with Nami-san…

 

Sanji drifted off in his thoughts, fingers slipping from Zoro’s shoulders. The swordsman let him go, let him walk away, moving in a daze. All of Sanji’s unconscious ‘we’s’ thrown in the air, adding joy to Zoro’s soul on top of everything else. He was sure he looked twice the fool as Sanji, smiling alone like a moron at nothing. He caught Zeff’s eye across the ways, who raised a brow at him. Zoro just shrugged, looking back at the letter still in his hand. It was crumpled now, but no less important. 

He returned to the crow’s nest, re-reading the letter from his nakama, skipping over all the lines of endless love declarations for his dear wife. He imagined Usopp, crying like Sanji had, weeping with such a big smile on his face as Kaya smiled gently. Usopp would be having 6 heart attacks a day, worrying over nothing while Kaya calmed him down each time.

... _ heard Nami made the 8th section of the west red-line, can't wait to see. I have all her other copies up on the wall, with little pins for where you guys are. I’m not always sure if they’re right, but it makes me feel closer to everyone. Sometimes town folk drop in to see, and I tell them stories and point out the islands… _

Zoro read the letter until his eye hurt, and the sun had started dipping into the sea. He thought about soft little humans with long noses, and about Sanji’s smile. 

_...she's so amazing, my Kaya. She just keeps getting more beautiful, and I think one day I’ll explode because I don't know what to do with all the extra love I have for her... _

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  


The days that followed included non-stop letter writing and Sanji throwing more and more news in Zoro’s face. Sanji was running around the place with twice as much energy, practically glowing and sharing his happiness through meals. The All Blue had never been busier, and the food had probably never been better. 

 

“Oi, another letter from Chopper.”

 

Sanji snatched the letter from Zoro’s hand, quickly scanning it. The little doctor had been adamant about checking on Kaya himself to confirm her health, and had rushed over on his own. He’d made it, according to the letter, and everything seemed perfect on Kaya’s end. Sanji smiled. 

A thud from the door took his attention, and Zoro jumped. Sanji noted the scratches on the swordsman’s face and his rumpled hair. He signed, grabbing a few coins from his pocket and tossing them at Zoro.

 

“You have to give the bird the right amount, otherwise it won't leave, dumbass.”

 

Zoro scowled and caught the coins, reluctantly opening the door and going back out. Sanji heard muffled cursing and a few more thuds, but moved to his station, carefully putting Chopper’s letter with the others. 

He had reached out to all members of the crew, getting quick replies and equally thrilled news. Franky would probably be the next to visit the happy couple, ready to set up a new room for the baby. Nami was still in Alabaster, and had decided to stay longer even as Luffy was anxious for adventure and had borrowed Pell as nakama. Brook was meeting up with Luffy at some point, and Robin remained a mystery, only sending her congratulations and her assurance of a visit. Sanji hummed to himself, still giddy from such a big event. 

 

“I’m sure that Usopp boy is damn happy. He’s got himself a fine wife, and now has a kid on the way….must be nice.”

 

Sanji narrowed his eyes at Zeff. Zeff looked back, narrowing his own eyes. Sanji had been the target of the old man’s strange bemoaning over the news, and if Sanji didn't know any better he’d say Zeff had been flip flopping between happy and  _ moping _ . The head chef didn't know why it was happening, only that it was driving him insane.

 

“Yeah, well, Usopp got lucky. He and Kaya were meant to be right from the start.”

 

Zeff was quiet, and Sanji hoped that was that. The ship was still busy, and they both needed to oversee the food around them. 

 

“Love is never about  _ luck,  _ eggplant. Those two just worked to the bone to make it work.”

 

Sanji sighed. He didn't know why Zeff seemed so adamant about telling Sanji of all people about random advice so late in their relationship, and it was starting to worry the younger. Was Zeff getting lonely in his old age? Or was he just being senile?

 

“Oh please, how many fairy tale romances like Usopp and Kaya’s actually exist? Usopp all but saved his princess from the evil dragon, and they both ended up happily ever after. If that isn't luck then what it?”

 

Zeff’s mustache twitched and his frown deepened. Sanji crossed his arms. 

 

“You sailed all over the whole world, and long nose never took another woman, never  _ considered  _ another. That’s not luck, that's commitment.” 

 

Zoro burst in again, an angry bird pecking at his head. Both chefs turned to him. 

 

“It still won't go away, cook!”

  
Sanji eyed the angry bird, and then Zoro. 

 

“Did you give it  _ all  _ the coins?”

 

Zoro cursed, swatting the bird away and exiting. He slammed the door behind him. Sanji turned back to Zeff. 

 

“Is there a point you wanted to make? Yes, Kaya and Usopp are madly in love and worked hard for it  _ with  _ some help from good circumstances and are having a kid. It's all good news, so why are you acting like something crawled up your ass and died?”

 

Zeff tapped his peg leg, obviously agitated. Sanji followed the movement, ready to dodge if necessary. 

 

“It's great news and I'm damn happy and there's not a single shitty reason for me to not be!”

 

“Well then why are you going on like someone spit in the soup!”

 

Zoro kicked open the door for a third time, and before he could open his mouth, Sanji shouted at him. 

 

“ALL the coins, marimo!”

 

Zoro slammed the door again, still cursing at the damn bird. Sanji turned back to Zeff, waiting. 

Zeff just gave Sanji a look, like Zeff was waiting for  _ Sanji _ to explain himself. Eventually the glaring contest ended, and Zeff turned away, hopefully to get started on some orders. 

 

Zoro opened the door, this time in his usual loud but not rushed way. He had feathers stuck all over his body, and his ear was bleeding. 

 

“Oi, I gave it all the money and it was still pissy.”

 

Sanji threw up his hands, exasperated. 

 

“Well maybe it was just in a bad mood! Did you kill it?”

 

Zoro poked at his ear, and Sanji kicked him. Like he needed blood of all things anywhere near his food. 

 

“No, can I?”

 

Sanji responded by throwing a list and 2 letters in the marimo’s face. 

 

“Don't kill the shitty bird, give it those letters and then take this list and give it to the supply crew. If they need help unloading, help them, but don't break or eat anything.”

 

Zoro huffed, but did as he was told. Or at least left and went off to attempt to do as he was told. Sanji usually gave it a 50/50 chance, depending on if the algae head could find the right place within an hour. He’d have to pray from the bird’s safety in the meantime. 

 

A ladle hit Sanji in the neck, and he rounded, yelling at Zeff. 

 

“The hell was that for you overcooked old meat bag!?”

 

Zeff just threw another utensil at him, grumbling like a thunder cloud. Sanji exited the kitchen as a fork hit the door, deciding he’d go help with the suppliers while Zeff got whatever the fuck was bothering him out of his system. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji wanted to throw a party. He figured, he owned the place, Luffy wasn't around to eat all the food, he’d get to dance away with some guests and staff alike, it could be fun. 

Setting  _ up  _ the party was  _ not  _ fun. He’d been barking orders left and right to get some nice decor up and the menu ready. Tables were moved around so there would be room for dancing, and a few of the chefs would be acting as musicians for the night, happy to show off and play around. It wasn't like any of the straw hat parties, impromptu and easy and filling up a beach. But it was Sanji’s style; holding a classy look and inviting a bit nicer of a crowd. Simple hor d'oeuvres for waiters to pass around, and for later to place on the buffet table so that all members of the restaurant could indulge in a night of letting loose. 

The night was still young and Zoro appeared at his side, a bottle of sake already procured from somewhere. 

 

“If it's a party, why is everyone still wearing prissy clothes?”

 

Sanji stomped on his foot, stealing the sake bottle for a swig. He was dressed nicely himself, but not quite formally. His white shirt was soft and light, hanging loosely at the collar and he sported his usual black trousers. Easy for movement and easy on the eyes. Zoro, to Sanji’s disgust, was still wearing the ugly greet coat with hole-patched pants and boots that should have been replaced years ago. As usual the moron didn't seem to own a damn shirt. 

 

“Just because everyone else is dressed better than you doesn't make it ‘prissy’. It just means they all have an awareness for hygiene.”

 

Zoro snorted, stealing back the booze. He and Sanji watched the guests trickling in, faces all alight with excitement at the twinkling lights hanging over them and the array of food around. Waiters moved around, bubbling and all smiles, probably enjoying the beautiful women draped in finery. The musician chefs had started warming up, and everything was soft and warm. Sanji was itching to dance, but would wait until the night got going. He wanted to make sure there was plenty of food to go around and just as plenty pretty faces to choose from. Maybe he'd find a dance partner and they'd feel a spark, and as the night went on they’d feel a certain connection and-

 

“Are they gonna bring more booze out? There’s only a few bottles on the table.”

 

Sanji tsked. His daydream ruined, he noted that the ‘few bottles’ were very high end champagne. The red and white wine would be brought out shortly, and then the stronger liquors. Just a like a meal, drinks had their order in presentation. 

 

“Just eat some food for now, and I’ll find you some grog later. Or maybe you can find some ‘prissy’ guy to give you his.”

 

Zoro choked on his sip, coughing a bit as Sanji laughed. The cook patted Zoro on the back, earning a glare. 

 

“What? Don't tell me you’ve been wandering around celibate all this time. Loosen up, loose the scowl, maybe go bathe and who knows, maybe some roughed up asshole will catch your eye.”

 

Zoro just looked at Sanji like he’d grown a second head. He had a flush spreading over his cheeks, making him look younger than usual. Sanji thought it was a rather charming change on the brutish man. 

 

“Not a chance, love-cook. Stick to your own stupid mush and leave me out of it.”

 

Sanji smirked. Zoro caught his look and sipped nervously. 

 

“Oh? The world’s greatest swordsman is suddenly too  _ good _ for sex? Please, marimo. We sailed together for years, and I doubt your  _ needs _ just suddenly went away.”

 

Sanji knew for a fact that Zoro most certainly did still have his needs, if that early morning incident was any clue. Zoro looked like he wanted to sink through the floor, his face flushed a deep red. He looked all kinds of uncomfortable, and Sanji was having fun making him so. 

 

“What’s it to you, cook? I’m not some drooling mess like you, I have self control.”

 

Sanji barked out a laugh, pointedly looking at the bottle on Zoro’s hand. 

 

“Self control my foot. You probably just don't know how to get someone in bed without a bar fight and shit quality rum involved. Have you ever even flirted with someone before, or do you just ask like how you demand alcohol?”

 

Sanji continued smirking, taking some champagne from a passing waiter. He missed the way Zoro’s mouth suddenly curled up, a wicked smile forming on his face. 

 

“Maybe you’re right, shit-cook. Maybe I’ll find someone tonight and take them back to the room. The bed’s a nice size, after all.”

 

Now Sanji paled, whipping his head to stare at Zoro. The marimo took a long sip of sake, pleased with himself. 

 

“You are  _ not _ fucking someone on my bed, shit for brains. I’ll set you and it on fire if you even  _ think  _ about it.”

 

“Mm, pretty sure Franky made it for  _ us _ , so technically it's  _ our _ bed. I can do whatever I want on it.”

 

Sanji stared at him, drowned his drink and aimed a kick at Zoro’s gut. The swordsman jumped out of the way, snickering. Sanji grabbed another glass as a waiter passed, taking a good sip. 

 

“I can't believe I’m saying this, but do  _ not  _ have sex in our bed or I will  _ kill  _ you. We get hundreds of customers with their own boats, so go fuck in one of those!”

 

“What, so  _ I  _ have to go over to some boat but you get to screw someone of the bed? No way, cook. If I’m not using the bed like that, you can't either.”

 

“Fine! Neither of us will screw on the bed!”

 

Two waiters turned at the outburst, and Sanji felt his face heat up. He kicked Zoro’s shin, but the moron kept laughing, finishing his bottle. Sanji finished the rest of his own drink, grabbing another from one of the startled waiters. He wasn't tipsy yet, but damn did he want to be. More patrons were coming in, some already moving to the dancefloor as one of the chefs started going with his violin. Sanji immediately perked, reminding himself that he’d get his chance to dance soon enough. 

 

“Well, whatever, good luck getting laid with your non-existent charm.”

 

Sanji tried to stomp on Zoro’s foot one last time before turning to go check on the food preparation. Zoro moved his boot just in time, and stuck his tongue out in a childish taunt. He seemed to be having a somewhat good time at least, and Sanji would admit that he was glad for it. 

He moved to the kitchens, calling a waiter over to get Zoro more sake, knowing they’d be down entire barrels by the end of the night. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Zoro was verging on pleasantly tipsy by the time the party was in full swing. He’d been thrown by Sanji earlier, the cook taunting him about sex and all, but that was a good 6 bottles ago and he still had plenty to go. He was looking around, noting the waiters and chefs alike mingling with the crowd, a few getting quite close and personal with the guests, and some getting personal with each other. He was pretty sure two waiters were having sex in the pantry, and Zoro wondered if Sanji knew. 

The cook the currently the center of the attention on the dance floor, moving around like he was born to be there, twirling away with anyone who offered their hand. He had no shortage of willing partners, with plenty of happily flushed women, old and young, wanting to dance with the handsome head chef. Plenty of men took their turns as well, but mostly young, nervous things that were too bashful to ask for a second dance. Zoro watched, happy enough to get a nice view of Sanji’s limber form arching and bending. The cook’s cheeks looked permanently tinted pink, and the flush spread down his chest, with the thin white fabric draping low over his shoulders. He was intoxicating, and Zoro wet his lips, his mouth going dry. He wanted to taste the sweat sliding down Sanji’s pale neck. 

Zoro caught himself and shook his head. Sanji had been right about one thing earlier, and that was that Zoro most certainly hadn't been celibate. He’d had his occasional quick fuck when the distraction became annoying, but since staying with Sanji, Zoro was feeling a spike in his hormones. He shared a bed with the person taking up all his fantasies, after all. 

 

“Mar-ee-mo!”

 

Zoro stiffened, turning as Sanji caught him by the shoulder, leaning heavily on him. Sanji got drunk easily, and right now he was verging on being more than just tipsy. His hair was a mess, and his stance was still steady but the wide smile on his flushed face revealed his drunkenness. 

 

“You shit-faced already, shit-cook?”

 

Sanji just laughed, patting Zoro on the back. His hands suddenly reached up, messing with Zoro’s hair. Zoro let him, since drunk Sanji wasn't hostile towards him and Zoro hardly minded the attention. 

 

“I always forget s’soft! Soft marimo, haha!”

 

Zoro chuckled, taking more of his own drink. Sanji’s was long forgotten, probably for the better. The hands on his head stopped stroking, a shame since it felt pretty good. Sanji leaned over to whisper something, and Zoro inclined his head. 

 

“Hey, so like, hey. Should I dance with that guy now, or, um, or  _ that _ guy?”

 

Zoro felt his good mood drop like his heart. He followed Sanji’s obvious pointing, the two men in question looking back, clearly interested in Sanji’s every movement, no doubt hoping they could keep the cook’s attention and bring him to their boats. They were both tall, broad but still well dressed. One had a sword on his back, and Zoro felt an ugly urge to snap his teeth at the man. Sanji was still leaning on his shoulder, actually waiting for Zoro to answer him. 

 

“Neither. Dance with me, cook.”

 

Sanji’s interest in the men dissipated in an instant, snapping to Zoro with wide eyes. A grin split his face, the kind that Zoro wanted to kiss so bad it hurt.

 

“You wanna dance together, marimo?”

 

Zoro didn't actually know  _ how  _ to dance, but if Sanji seemed happy at the idea, and Zoro could keep him away from the two men, he’d dance with the cook. Sanji seemed so genuinely excited at the idea of dancing again, dancing with  _ Zoro _ , that the swordsman found himself leading the blonde back to the dancing area. He gripped Sanji’s hand gently, his thumb sliding against his warm palm. 

The music was loud, accompanied by the clap of hands and stomp of feet. It wasn't slow, but it wasn't very fast. Zoro figured he could do with it. 

But Sanji grabbed his other hand, and despite the booze in his body, his movements were fluid and confident. He moved Zoro, moved around Zoro, pushed him back and drew him back in, stepping lightly with the music playing right in his veins. All Zoro could do was hold on, hoping he didn't step on feet. When he moved like Sanji, the cook grinned at him. When he twirled him around, Sanji came right back into his side, looking completely unsurprised and entirely happy. 

They continued on for a long time, until Zoro felt his own breath shorten and Sanji’s hair stuck to the back of his neck. The music had grown slower, and Zoro fell into an easy rhythm of swaying around with Sanji, sometimes not even touching, just moving close. They became engulfed by other dancers, everyone spinning in the dim light.

Zoro had lost some of his tipsiness, and Sanji looked like he was more tired than drunk. His white shirt clung to his skin now, and Zoro nearly lost his breath because Sanji was so fucking gorgeous. He was so unbelievably handsome, and Zoro was dancing with him.  _ This, right here _ , he thought.  _ This is a step. _

The cook yawned, sobered and sleepy, and Zoro could see the beginnings of the pink in the clouds, the sun soon to rise. He was able to pull Sanji along, out of the crowd of dwindling dancers to a more quiet place, where Sanji collapsed in a chair. 

 

“Tired, cook?”

 

Sanji closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He hummed, still smiling. 

 

“A bit. You’re not a total shit dancer, y’know.”

 

Zoro breathed out a little laugh, feeling a bit sticky from the night air. He removed his coat, taking the sash off as well. He could feel eyes on him, and looked over to see Sanji peering at his bare arms through one eye. 

 

“You got a new scar.”

 

Zoro looked at his arm. It was covered in little nicks, faint white lines and old stich marks. If he had a new one, he didn't notice. 

 

“Where?”

 

“There.”

 

Sanji seemed frustrated that Zoro didn't see it. He reached out and tugged Zoro by the pant leg to come closer, grabbing the tan arm and pointing to a spot just above the inside of his elbow. 

 

“See? Right here, you didn't have this last time.”

 

But Zoro wasn't interested in the marks on his skin. All he cared about was the way Sanji’s thin fingers brushed against his flesh, the way his blue eyes focused so intently on his arm. Hair disheveled with drying sweat and red cheeks.

 

“You can't know that.”

 

Sanji looked up, frowning right in Zoro’s face. Zoro held his breath, afraid he’d do something stupid. 

 

“Idiot. I know everything about you.”

 

Sanji went back to studying the scar, like he hadn't just made Zoro fall in love with him for the hundredth time all over again. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji dreams that night about sailing on Merry, fresh from the Baratie and from crying on his knees. 

Everything was the same, but also off centered in a way that made him feel on edge but not troubled. There was a difference to everyone, the way they were moving around like fish in a tank and smiling so easily. 

 

“What do you want to eat today?”

 

It was Zoro, asking Sanji a question about food. It made Sanji feel like his limbs were made of bubbles and he just laughed. 

 

“I should be asking you that!”

 

This Zoro just smiled at him and laughed too, big and loud and full of youth. Sanji looked at this Zoro who wasn’t Zoro, this teenager who wasn’t quite a man yet, despite what it had seemed like all those years ago. 

 

“I want to cook for you today, cook.”

 

In the real world, Sanji would have run away screaming. But in this dream it was just Zoro being genuinely interested in feeding Sanji something he had made, and it was quite possibly the sweetest thing Sanji had ever heard. 

 

“What will you cook for me?”

 

Zoro smiled on, shiny white teeth standing out from his dark skin. 

 

“Anything you want, Sanji.”

 

And Sanji wasn’t sure what to say to that. 

So he kissed him. 

And woke up.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to actual real mutual attraction over here people. Sanji's a lightweight, always will be, and I swear he's a born dancer with his fighting style. Anyways I LOVE Usopp. I Love him. I want him to be a dad because he'd be such a good dad! That and the fact that it ties into the other part of this fic that addresses the straw hat pirates and their future with children, specifically Sanji and Zoro with children. We've seen Zoro as a babysitter in a filler episode and it was fantastic, he's great with small humans. I always imagined Sanji as wanting to be a dad, like a real proper dad that loved his kids to the soul. But they're be hesitance, the what ifs in his head saying he might end up like Judge and he's not good enough, he'll never be good enough. Another reason why I love Zoro and Sanji's relationship is because of how quick Zoro is to say fuck you, you ARE good enough, how dare you say anything different. Its that push and pull with them, ya know?   
> I'm still busy as all hell over here but I promise to update every week!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sanji hasnt been this sexually frustrated since he was 15   
> Zoros a pro at sexual frustrations by now tho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update work has been hell blah blah life bullshit heres some drunk gay dumbasses

 

 

 

 

 

Zoro didn’t know why the cook was acting so strange, but he just  _ was.  _

They’d had a great night, danced-  _ actually  _ danced together and it had been  _ great.  _ They’d gotten back to the room and passed out on the bed and then suddenly it was morning and when Zoro went to go find the cook, what he got was Sanji in a  _ mood _ . And he’d been in the stupid  _ mood _ all day, locking himself up in the kitchen and ignoring Zoro. 

He’d seen the cook’s mood swings take crazy turns over the years but sometimes Sanji could just be a straight wild card for no reason. He’d seen the guy go from kicking someone’s head in to asking them their tea preference, and he sure as hell knew that if for any reason Sanji was pissed, he had the unfortunate tendency to  _ stay  _ pissed without giving a damn reason. He was more of a princess than Nami for god’s sake. 

 

“When’s dinner?”

 

Zoro had made it to the kitchen on his second try this time, something worth being proud of if he said so himself. Sanji was all tenseness and quick eyes, not really looking at Zoro but still looking at Zoro. Weirder than usual. 

 

“Uh, now, I guess.”

 

Sanji returned to his cooking, entirely ignoring Zoro until food was thrown in his face. Zoro took the plate, glancing at Sanji’s stiff back, and scowled.

 

“What, you not eating?”

 

Sanji grunted, still not looking at Zoro. 

 

“I’ll eat later. Busy night.”

 

Zoro looked around. Some of the chefs were working on orders but most were wandering off to their bunks or eating themselves. Zoro looked back at Sanji, annoyed. 

 

“Yeah, sure. You know you’ll just get scrawnier if you don't eat, right?”

 

That did the trick. Sanji whipped around, nose wrinkled at Zoro. 

 

“Excuse me? I am not  _ scrawny _ . Just because I'm not a walking meat sack like  _ you _ doesn't mean I’m fucking  _ scrawny _ .”

 

Zoro smirked and Sanji narrowed his eyes at him. 

 

“Right, sorry. Sometimes I just get you and toothpicks confused, so-

 

“It's called  _ lean!  _ I am  _ lean! _ And you probably weigh 400 goddamn pounds-

 

“You callin’ me fat, shit-cook? Must be all the stuff you put in my food.”

 

Sanji grit his teeth, vein twitching in his forehead. Zoro could tell he was dying to kick at Zoro, but didn't want to because Zoro was holding his dinner, they were surrounded by other people preparing food, and Sanji’s stove was still on. Zoro smirked, grabbing a fork from the counter. Sanji practically growled. 

 

“If I make the same damn meal and eat it, will you shut the fuck up and go away?”

 

Zoro took a bite of whatever Sanji had made, making sure to talk with his mouth full like Sanji hated. 

 

“Maybe.”

 

Sanji curled his lip in disgust, but grudgingly turned around and started preparing his own food. Satisfied, Zoro left the kitchens to sit down somewhere outside and enjoy his dinner. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Sanji was losing his damn mind.

He didn't know what had possessed his unconscious brain to throw in the combination of  _ Zoro  _ and  _ kissing _ in his dream, but it was ruining Sanji’s life. It was like a little switch had suddenly been turned on in Sanji’s head, a very dangerous little switch that suddenly made Zoro  _ attractive _ . 

Sanji had woken up with Zoro sleeping peacefully next to him, bare chested and completely unaware of the cook’s little heart attack. Nothing had changed, and yet suddenly Sanji found himself being a total creep and starring at Zoro’s chest for a good five minutes. He noticed how long Zoro’s eyelashes were, and the way his brow relaxed in his sleep. Sanji had practically run out the door in his haste to get the images out of his head. 

Then later for breakfast when Sanji had brought up the food, Zoro was rubbing his eyes, pants hanging low on his hips, and the word  _ cute _ had popped up in Sanji’s head. He had nearly throw the tray at Zoro and drowned himself in the coffee pot. 

It had only gotten worse, and by lunch time Sanji still couldn't take his eyes off Zoro. When he ate, letting his lips wrap around utensils. When he stretched his jacket slipped. When he picked something up and his back muscles arched. When he fucking  _ spoke  _ even. 

Sanji was going to lose it, and he was pretty sure Zeff had noticed. Hell, he was pretty sure  _ Zoro  _ had noticed his odd behavior, and he literally didn't know what to do. If Zoro hadn’t been nakama, or, you know,  _ Zoro _ , then Sanji would have flirted his way into his bed by now. But Sanji couldn't do that because it was  _ Zoro  _ and  _ what the fuck was happening _ . 

He could guess what had jump started it all. He’d had such a good time dancing with Zoro, and he had turned down people to do so. He’d said no to sex multiple times that night so he could dance with Zoro, and it was insane. But he had still had a good time, a  _ great  _ time, even. He’d spun himself around with the marimo, and Zoro had been gentle with his touch, but still strong. He’d held Sanji close and secure, and it had been nice in a way that would have been condescending or rude by a stranger. Zoro offered the stability and overwhelming trust that no one else could that night, and it hit Sanji hard. Unless he sat down and deeply pursued a relationship, build it up over years and years and went through utter  _ hell  _ with that person, he’d never have anything close to what he had with Zoro. And that was terrifying. 

What the hell did he do in this situation? He’d have to act like everything was normal, right? Well, everything  _ was  _ normal. It wasn't like anything had really changed, other than Zoro somehow looking hot in his ugly coat and Sanji kind of wanting to kiss him and  _ oh my god fuck _ .

 

“Oi, you’ll give yourself a concussion, eggplant.”

 

Sanji hadn’t even been aware that he was banging his head against the wall. Zeff was looking at him like he was crazy and maybe he was a little bit. He probably looked like hell, with his hair sticking up every which way and his eyes wide. Most of the staff were hungover, so Sanji could hide his unusual behavior for now, but everyone would be suspicious if he kept up the weirdness. 

 

“Just. Tired, is all.”

 

Zeff raised an eyebrow, looking at the little crack in the wall from Sanji’s head. 

 

“You tryin’ to wake yourself up or put a new window in? We got coffee for a reason, stupid eggplant.”

 

Zeff left him alone at that, something Sanji was eternally grateful for. He needed to sort out some thought before Zoro came back. He made a quick mental list of what he needed to do. 1, Act normal. 2, cook the food. 3, stop finding Zoro attractive. Number 2 was the simplest, so he’d start with that. He had to cook himself something to eat anyways. He grabbed some carrots, cutting them up as he worked on number 1. He could act normal. He was  _ great  _ at acting normal. He’d freakin been the espionage champ for the straw hats. Well, besides Robin-chan. He’d played the damn  _ cards _ against enemies. He could act fucking normal. He finished cutting the carrots and threw them in the pan with some butter and salt, adding the shrimp and garlic. Number 3 now, ok. So Zoro was hot now, so what. All Sanji had to do was remember how gross and ill-mannered and  _ stupid  _ he was on the daily, and any attraction should vanish. He pictured Zoro sniffing at his own dirty socks, picking his teeth, snoring. Completely gross and unattractive. Good. 

 

“You eat yet, cook? Also is there more of the sake from last night?”

 

Sanji stiffened, hand twitched and causing all the ingredients in the pan to jump. 

 

“I’m cooking my food now, dumbass. And I don't know, go look in the pantry.”

 

That was normal. Easy banter, nothing new. 

 

“Which pantry? There’s like, 7 of ‘em.”

 

Sanji turned from the stove, ready to give Zoro an insult since there were three pantries, not seven, but his words died in his mouth. 

Zoro was licking at his fingers. His pink tongue dancing out to flick at the calloused skin, catching stray grains of rice and salt. One finger dipped into his mouth and Sanji had to turn away because he felt his face heating up and this was  _ ridiculous _ ! He probably hasn't even washed those hands before eating! It was gross!  _ Zoro  _ was gross! 

 

“Oi, which pantry, shit-cook?”

 

“Uh, the, um. The first one.”

 

Sanji didn't actually know which one it was in, but Zoro would get lost anyways and Sanji needed him gone. He imagined Zoro all disgusting and sweaty from working out and shirtless and bad move, no, nope, not helping. He flicked the heat down, dumping some sliced potatoes in the pan, entirely focused on his cooking. 

 

“...yeah, ok, thanks.”

 

“Ah, and, uh bring me some too.”

 

He caught Zoro nodding in the doorway, off to find the booze. Sanji heaved a sigh. He was going to need a drink if this continued. He was really losing his mind, and he wasn't even 30 yet. Sanji frikin Black-Leg, losing his sanity because he thought the marimo was good looking. It’d look goddamn fantastic as a headline. Hell, maybe Sanji should just turn himself into the marines, see if a little torture could shake the new feelings. 

He turned off the heat and took a big bite of shrimp. It was a little salty. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Luckily for Sanji, the next couple days were too busy for him to dwell on his unmentionable attraction to the marimo. A huge storm was rolling in, and they’d be closed for a bit as the weather prevented any safe travel. For a floating restaurant, it meant tieing everything down, lowering an extra anchor, and completely removing the sails. Every fork and napkin needed to be properly put away, and every inch had to be double checked for holes or cracks. Inventory had to be double checked, and everyone was instructed by Sanji to keep emergency rations in their private quarters. Zoro had taken it one step further, hoarding spirits in their room. Sanji didn't even have it in him to yell at the alcoholic moron, since the cook was sure he’d be partaking in them himself. Once the storm fully hit, the boat would probably loose power and they’d have to conserve gas. Cooking in a rolling storm was asking for disaster, and even if Sanji was experienced in it, not all of his crew was and it was a bitch to deal with. It would be bread, cheese, dried meats and fruit for at least three days. 

 

“What’s the big deal? We always got through storms easy on the Sunny.”

 

Sanji was making Zoro fold some of the sails, since he couldn't be trusted with much else. Sanji still couldn't quite look at Zoro without odd feeling bubbling up, but it seemed to be getting better. Hard work was always a good distraction. And constant reminders that Zoro was a disgusting mongrel that only bathed once a week. 

 

“The sunny could move through a storm, shortening it, or avoid it entirely. This ship isn't mobile, so we have to prepared to face the full force of whatever comes. It was built to withstand a lot of shit, but at the end of the day it's meant for comfort, not durability.”

 

Zoro flipped the worn canvas, tying two sides together. He looked around him, as if suddenly taking an interest in the actual ship. 

 

“I thought Franky made this thing. It should be battle proof.”

 

Sanji sighed, inspecting the drains again. They’d all been plugged, but under pressure they could leak.

 

“All ships are still wood, marimo. Good for floating, bad for impact. Why do you think Franky was always doing repairs?”

 

A light smattering of rain started hitting the portholes, and Sanji cursed. They’d be completely fine and were ready by now, but he had wanted to triple check everything. He pushed out of the kitchen, Zoro behind him. He jumped to the railing and flipped up to the top roof, ringing the large bell.

 

“ALL HANDS! LISTEN UP!”

 

The few chefs bustling around on deck snapped their attention to him, and doors opened as everyone came out. 

 

“We’ve got 2 hours tops, so finish tying anything you see down and bolt all the portholes! When you’re done get to your cabins, and if I see anyone on deck without my permission I’ll throw you overboard before the storm has a chance to! Now MOVE!”

 

The chefs scattered, moving in groups to efficiently finish up tasks. Sanji swung down, ignoring the way the rain was slicking back Zoro’s hair and running droplets down his neck. He pushed his way past him into the kitchen. 

 

“You know, it weird, but you actually seem like a half-decent captain.”

 

Sanji blushed all the way up his neck, stretching his leg to kick at Zoro. 

 

“Of course I am! I was raised of the Baratie, and I was practically running that place even as a kid!”

 

Zoro shrugged, shaking his head and scatting water droplets like a dog. 

 

“Just weird is all. Someone else being the captain besides Luffy.”

 

“Luffy was a pirate captain, and he’ll always be a pirate captain. I’m good at being in charge here because my crew is made of chefs and this place is about cooking. Even  _ you’d  _ be a somewhat maybe competent captain is you had a boat full of swordsmen.”

 

Zoro made a sceptical noise. Sanji busied himself with locking all the glasses up. 

 

“Nah, telling people what to do doesn't interest me. That’s more yours and Nami’s thing.”

 

Sanji tsked, turning to Zoro. He focused on all the stains on his ugly sleeve rather than his face. 

 

“Nami-san and I just happen to be naturally great leaders. Maybe you’d be good at it if you didn't waste all your time sleeping and killing your liver.”

 

Sanji couldn't really see it though. Well, he could see Zoro, standing at the helm with a stern look on his face and a loyal crew, but he couldn't see Zoro commanding them all. Or ever getting them anywhere. They’d have to name themselves the Lost Pirates, or the Directionless Marimos. Sanji gave a little chuckle at that, imagining a ship full of green-headed morons trying to find one island.

 

“At least killing my liver kills time. You’ll be thanking me for the booze once the storm really hits and we’re stuck inside.”

 

“It’s all  _ my  _ booze to begin with, moron. You just moved some of it to the room.”

 

Zoro just shrugged again. In his eyes he had probably done something gracious, and Sanji wasn't going to  _ admit  _ it but yeah, he kinda wanted to get shit faced. He had done almost everything he could for the ship at this point, and Zoro had finished with the sails, so all that was left was to make sure everyone made it to their rooms and then get to his. He had a deck of cards, some recipe books and some fish encyclopedias. The marimo was wiping his face with his coat, the fabric opening up and putting the slope of his stomach on display. Sanji followed the hard lines downward and-

It was going to be a long 3 days.

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Two aces.”

 

Sanji slammed his fist against the floor, grinding his teeth. There wasn't any actual  _ skill  _ involved in 21, but Zoro’s ridiculous luck had him beating Sanji at every turn. The only person Sanji had ever met with that much dumb luck was Luffy. Sanji took a sip from the whiskey bottle.

They’d been going back and forth between playing cards, drinking, and fighting, but in the cramped space things kept breaking and Zeff ended up banging on the wall until they stopped. Right now they were back at the cards for a third time, and Zoro had a split lip while Sanji was sporting a few bruises on his stomach. Sanji was tempted to wander back to the kitchen, but the lightning and sheets of rain coming down kept him in his room. The boat creaked loudly every minute, pitching slowly to one side and then back. Right now all Sanji wanted to do was drink until he could pass out. 

And he was getting there. Every time the boat moved his vision swirled a little, and he’d probably be blabbering like an idiot about who knows what else if he wasn't keeping all his focus on his mouth staying shut. He was downright  _ terrified  _ of what he might say to Zoro if he didn't keep a check on his thoughts, and he was starting to question why he thought it'd be such a great idea to get drunk. He should have stuck to dying of boredom. 

A thought struck him, and he dropped his cards, getting a look from stupid sexy Zoro. ug, no, bad brain.

 

“How much booze do you actually need to get drunk?”

 

Zoro eyed their stash. They had 2 bottles of sake (empty) two bottles of run (one down) a half drunk bottle or bourbon, and the whiskey Sanji was drinking. He looked back at Sanji with his pretty eyes. Eye. 

 

“More than this, that's for sure.”

 

Sanji got to his feet a bit unsteadily, and tapped Zoro on the head. 

 

“Ok, come on, up up up! I’m not gonna be the only one drunk.”

 

Zoro stood, an amused smile on his face. It was kinda hot but Sanji definitely wasn't thinking that. At all. He figured that this way, if  _ Zoro _ got drunk, Sanji was safe to open his mouth, since Zoro either wouldn't remember or would be too drunk to care. 

 

“You gonna let me drink all your booze, cook?”

 

Sanji panicked for a second, looking wide eyed at Zoro. 

 

“You’re gonna drink  _ all  _ of it!?”

 

Zoro laughed, since apparently Sanji had said something funny. 

 

“Damn, even Usopp could outdrink you. No, I’m not gonna drink  _ all  _ the booze, shit-cook.”

 

Sanji gave a sigh of relief. He continued to tap Zoro on the shoulder, feeling impatient now. 

 

“Ok, good. Come on, lets go to the cellar pantry thing.”

 

Zoro looked behind Sanji at the wall Zeff had been kicking, and Sanji followed his gaze. 

 

“We’ll just be reaaalllyy quiet. I used to sneak out all the time on the Baratie, no big deal.”

 

“Well, it’s your boat anyways.”

 

Sanji nodded. 

 

“Exactly. Lets go.”

 

Sanji didn't wait for Zoro this time, just opened the door. A gust of wet wind nearly threw him back, and he had to plant his feet. Warm hands touched just above his hips, catching him a bit, and he nearly fell over again. He grit his teeth and pushed himself away to the rail, already soaked to the bone. Shitty fucking storms. He could barely hear himself think over the wind. 

 

“If you fall overboard I’m not jumping in after you!”

 

Sanji just laughed at Zoro.

 

“Psh, of course you will! Now come on, we can cut through the kitchens!”

 

Sanji jumped over the rail, deciding it would be quicker. He nearly fell on his ass, feet slipping on the wet wood, but luckily he stayed upright. The boat was tipping back and forth, the violence of the waves much more noticeable outside. In a storm like this, maybe stumbling around drunk was a tiny part dumb as fuck. He walked in a zigzag over to the door, Zoro’s hands coming up to twist open the lock before Sanji could. 

 

“Such a gentleman, marimo.”

 

“Just get inside, this sucks.”

 

They both tumbled into the kitchen, Sanji using his foot to kick the door shut. It was much quieter, and Sanji had to push his wet hair out of his face. His shoes squished with the water stuck in them. He grabbed a rag, using it to dry off what he could, tossing one at Zoro. 

 

“How are we supposed to carry all the booze back in that weather?”

 

Sanji paused, thinking. He hadn't really thought about that part, all his plan included was get booze, get Zoro drunk, pass out in peace. 

 

“Eh, we’ll just drink down there. Or here.”

 

Zoro didn't seem to have a problem with that plan. He followed Sanji through the back door, down to the storage areas. Sanji checked the numbers on the door, going with the first one. It was the right one, with large barrels in the back and wine on the higher shelves. Bingo. 

 

“This was probably your best idea yet, curly. Damn, thats some good stuff over there.”

 

Sanji let him go, pleased with himself. He grabbed another bottle for himself, not really caring what it was, since he only kept good quality on his ship. Zoro was cracking open a barrel with one of his swords, looking like Luffy at a feast. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  
  


“Ok, ooookayyy, so you’ve  _ never  _ been interested in a woman, like,  _ ever _ ?”

 

Zoro snorted from somewhere across the room. Sanji was on his back, sliding a little when the boat moved. He’s pretty sure the lights were dancing. 

 

“Hell no. What do you even do with one in bed? Everything's kinda, opposite?” 

 

Sanji laughed loudly, rolling his empty bottle away. 

 

“Roronoa Zoro, the world’s greatest swordsman, afraid of lady bits!”

 

Sanji kept laughing, Zoro growling at him from somewhere. He rolled his head left and right, finally finding Zoro over by his barrel. His skin was flushed, cheeks red from the liquor and embarrassment.

 

“I am not  _ afraid _ of vaginas! I just don't see the appeal is all. Men have holes that work just fine without all the- _ stuff _ !”

 

Sanji couldn’t breath he was laughing so hard. He wasn't really listening, just thinking about the swordsman running away, screaming in fear at the sight a woman’s lower parts. It was god damn  _ hilarious _ . 

 

“Shut up! It's  _ true _ !”

 

Sanji just kept laughing. He calmed down enough to point over at Zoro, giggles still coming out. 

 

“Ok, heh, ok, so then, what about breasts? Come on, they’re so  _ soft _ , like lovely little pillows.”

 

Mmm, round and soft and bouncy. Sanji  _ loved  _ boobs. 

 

“Eh, men can have good tits. I’m not really in it for the soft bits though, more interested in the hard ones, if you know what I mean.”

 

Zoro and Sanji laughed together. Sanji wiggled on his back, his clothes still damp from the rain. Zoro had discarded his shash and jacket a while ago, leaving Sanji to admire the fact that men could, in fact, have good tits. 

 

“Oh, but to have hard and soft together, mmm, like a damn  _ feast _ .”

 

His mind wandered back to a couple he had serviced in multiple ways. Ample bosoms and soft folds at his front, and hard muscle and rough hands at his back. He’d feasted like a damn king. 

 

“You’re just always horny, love-cook. I wouldn't be surprised if you’ve been  _ feasting  _ on your own crew.”

 

Zoro laughed again, and Sanji’d flush grew. 

 

“Only like, 2 times!! And one was just a temporary waiter, it doesn't count!!”

 

“Holy shit, you actually  _ did _ ! What a pervert, hahaha!”

 

“FUCK YOU!”

 

Sanji snapped his legs at Zoro, knowing his feet wouldn't reach, but using the angle to let his damp shoes slide off his feet and fly at Zoro’s head. Zoro was still laughing even as a shoe bounced off his head. 

 

“They had the time of their fucking  _ life _ ! I’m the best fuck those two have ever had, you hear!?  _ They  _ were begging  _ me  _ for another go!”

 

Zoro was still laughing like he hadn't heard a damn thing, and Sanji kicked the floor, angry. He tried standing, but nearly toppled over, and decided to fuck it and crawl his way over to the stupid swordsman. 

He pulled Zoro by the pants, making him slide to his back, smacking his head on the floor. He winced, swinging at Sanji who just smirked. Zoro’s scowl turned into a matching grin, taunting and playful. 

 

“You sure they weren't just begging you to go  _ away _ ? You probably bruise every bed mate you have with your boney arms and legs.”

 

Sanji growled, pushing Zoro back down and sitting on his stomach, poking him hard in the gut. So what if Zoro looked hot on his back? So what if his messed up hair was sexy? He was a dick and Sanji was a  _ good lay, damnit _ . 

 

“I take people to fucking  _ heaven  _ with my body! I’ve had men and women alike  _ beg  _ for me, just like you are now, on their backs at my mercy! I give nothing short of absolute god damn ecstasy, even when some asshole can't find his own dick himself! And yeah, I  _ love  _ women and worshiping them and their bodies, but I am  _ just  _ as good at handling the hard bits you're so fond of!”

 

Sanji leaned back, panting. Zoro looking speechless, and Sanji smirked at him, proud of himself. He missed the way Zoro bit his lip, gathering himself and clenching his fists. 

 

“I don't believe you, cook.”

 

“Wha-

 

Sanji’s head spun as he was flipped into his back, head smacking the wood like Zoro’s had. He winced, growling at Zoro as the man leaned over him, caging his body with his thick arms. 

 

“You think you’re so fucking sexy, cook, with your lean body and all that hidden muscle? You can twist your hips and bend your spine like a damn cat, and you got those long legs, but what about raw, open,  _ power _ ?”

 

Zoro snapped his teeth, biting off the last word, face close to Sanji’s. The cook squirmed, his neck burning. Zoro smelled like the sake and wood dust and something metallic. 

 

“How many men have you met that could overpower you, hold you down?  _ Really  _ hold you down, press you into the mattress and fuck you? Have you ever had that, cook? Someone you  _ couldn't  _ kick and take control over with those legs of yours?”

 

Sanji couldn't help it, he gasped. A tiny moan curled off his tongue, arousal spiking. Zoro was spinning above him, leaning into his space with heat burning off his skin. 

 

“It’s easy to tease and play with  _ them,  _ those bastards who couldn't hold a candle to your strength, who  _ have  _ to give in to you. Who in this world could give you that power, the kind you  _ need _ , huh? Who could hold those leg of yours open, and  _ destroy you _ ?”

 

Sanji couldn't stop the lust fogging his mind. He was hard and aching, and Zoro was right there, talking like he was offering him a taste of something fucking  _ delicious _ . 

 

“You think you could overpower me, Zoro? You think you could keep me on my back, keep my legs spread while you fuck me?”

 

Zoro moaned, long and drawn out, and Sanji didn't want to wait anymore. Zoro’s arms were shaking, for some reason still holding him back, but Sanji was done. He entangled his legs around Zoro’s waist and pulled him flush, arousals meeting with perfect friction under damp clothes. Zoro’s hands moved fast, breath puffing onto Sanji’s neck as those strong hands moved up and down his thighs, unable to get a decent grip like he had boasted of doing. 

 

“See? You-ah- you’re just the same, under  _ my _ control, marimoo _ ooh _ -

 

He broke off into a moan as Zoro bit into his shoulder, teeth reaching skin under the thin cloth, hand cruely pressing against his hardness, stroking him through the fabric. It was so fucking good, and Sanji wanted more. 

 

“I like shutting you up like this, cook. I could find all sorts of ways to keep that dirty mouth occupied. Or maybe I just gotta get you screamin’ so much you lose your voice.”

 

Sanji gasped as cold air hit his naval, and then his flushed cock as Zoro undid his pants, dragging his underwear down. Sanji’s hands slithered between them, working on Zoro’s buttons, brushing his fingers against the bulge there. They both moaned together at the teasing touches, panting heavily. Sanji got a few buttons undone, pulling Zoro from his pants. 

 

“How can you not-ah!-wear any underwear?”

 

Zoro nipped at Sanji’s collar bone, groaning as Sanji touched him with his quick fingers. He retaliated by squeezing Sanji tighter, rubbing him a bit faster and smearing the precum with his thumb. The moan he received told him he was doing well.

 

“I don't wear pants as tight as you, clinging to my skin-oh  _ fuck _ !”

 

Sanji pushed Zoro’s hand away, bringing their cocks together and wrapping both his hands around them, pushing his hips up to grind hard against Zoro. Zoro trembled as Sanji shook below him. It was wet and hot and dirty and  _ perfect _ . 

 

“This your way of  _ destroying  _ me, Zoro? S-seems like I’m doing all the work.”

 

Zoro growled in Sanji’s ear, a noise that sent shivers up his spine. A larger hand engulfed Sanji’s and Zoro rocked down into him, forcing his whole body flush with the wood. He arched his spine, letting Zoro push back down again and again as he reached up to meet him. 

They wouldn't last, not like this, but Sanji was chasing his release, desperate to come under Zoro, and he didn't care. He let Zoro push him down, and he imagined what it would be like to be spread out more, for Zoro to really be inside him, really fucking  _ into  _ him. 

He must of said it outloud, because Zoro made a pained noise and covered Sanji’s mouth with his free hand, before removing it and crashing his mouth against Sanji’s. 

It was a frantic, opened mouthed kiss made of liquor and aggression with both men panting too heavily and distracted to focus. Sanji bit onto Zoro’s lower lip, the one still cut from their fight earlier, tasting the copper of Zoro’s blood and he shuddered hard, orgasm tearing his body apart. Zoro groaned into Sanji’s mouth, following him in release, and Sanji wondered if Zoro’s body had always fit so well against his. 

 

“God, Sanji.  _ Fuck _ .”

 

Sanji had to agree. It only took Zoro rolling off him to the side for his eyes to grow heavy, passing into sleep as a warm arm tugged him close where he fit so well. 

  
  


 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well well well that took a while hmm
> 
> also Zoro is definitely afraid of vaginas I dont make the rules


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who likes hangovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will note that the morons DO GET TOGETHER  
> eventually  
> when I say so  
> anyways works been crazy and all that I'll update sooner sorry

  
  
  
  


 

Sanji woke up with his head throbbing and equally desperate need to spill his guts and pee. He rolled away from an unconscious Zoro and got up on unsteady legs, feeling sticky and disgusting and  _ fuck  _ he was going to throw up. 

He made it out of the pantry and into the kitchen, holding a hand over his mouth and desperately looking around. He  _ refused  _ to puke in the sink where he washed his pans, and whining to himself he burst through the door into the elements to empty his stomach over the rails as rain stung his skin. He kind of wanted to get struck by lightning. 

Throat burning, he clung to the rail and let the rain cool his aching head. The boat was rolling away, waves large enough to crash by Sanji’s nose. Still needing to piss, he shoved his oddly loose pants down a bit, unconcerned at his missing belt, and relieved himself over the rail as well. At least the rain helped him feel less disgusting, even if it was uncomfortable. He felt like utter shit, and he didn't remember why he and Zoro had decided to sleep in the patry of all places. He stood leaning against the rail, letting the water pelt him until he started shivering. No one else would be out, or even up if Sanji’s internal clock was right. At least he could be miserable alone for a bit.

The cold started to gnaw at his skin, and he made it slowly to one of two heads where he could take a hot shower. Hopefully no one would be there either, and he could work on making himself slightly presentable. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Zoro woke up with an equally pounding headache and need to pee, but luckily a more settled stomach. He got up and tripped over his own coat, legs getting tangled in his sash and groaned as he hit the floor, already pissed at that day. He didn't usually get headaches from drinking, or hungover at all really, but the few times he did it usually went away pretty fast. He’d just have to sweat it out. 

He ignored his dirty clothes and tightened his loose pants, deciding he’d go pee outside and then look for Sanji so he could get some food. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji was sitting in the shower with his shirt half off when the door burst open and he nearly screamed. He turned to see a soaking wet Zoro. 

 

“Why do you  _ never _ knock!?”

 

Zoro looked like how Sanji felt, which made Sanji feel a little better. Zoro eyed his state of dress. 

 

“Why are you wearing your clothes in the shower?”

 

Sanji didn't feel like answering, just let his head fall back against the cool tiles. He looked over to see Zoro struggling to get his wet pants off, foot getting trapped in the pant leg before he fell over. 

 

“Because of that.”

 

Sanji felt pretty smug as Zoro grumbled, pulling his pants back up a little where he had tried to pull them down, and plopping himself down opposite to Sanji in the warm spray. They both sat there for a while, just two grown men wearing clothes in the shower. 

 

“How long til the storm lets up?”

 

Sanji glanced at Zoro. He looked like he was trying to fall back asleep.

 

“Dunno. 2 days?”

 

Zoro grunted, raising a hand to point at his stomach.

 

“Hungry.”

 

Sanji felt his own stomach roll. He knew he had to eat something, but he figured it’d be safer to wait. It figured the alcoholic monster could handle food right away. 

 

“It’s up in the room. Breakfast is labeled, so don't take more than your share. Gotta ration.”

 

Zoro nodded, not making a move to stand yet. Sanji wasn't sure how long the hot water would last, and he wanted to wear some dry clothes for a change. He reached up and turned off the shower, making Zoro grunt in annoyance. 

 

“We can shower again when we get our fucking pants off.”

 

Zoro smirked, eyes still closed. 

 

“Wow, didn't know you wanted me naked that bad, cook.”

 

A few things happened at once. One was that Sanji tried to kick Zoro in the shin, but missed and accidentally kicked him straight in the crotch. Two was that as he was doing this, certain images flashed through Sanji’s mind, certain  _ vivid  _ images of something very insane that he may or may not have done with a certain marimo, involving Zoro teasing him in the same voice he just used. Three was that as Zoro was yelling that he was going to kill Sanji, and then launching himself at Sanji, Sanji kind of realized he wanted to do it again. 

Not the crotch kicking thing, the kind of sex thing. If Zoro didn't kill him first. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro had left Sanji on the bathroom floor to deal with his new headache caused by Zoro’s fist, and was trying to find the damn bedroom. He could barely see outside, and every door looked the same. His only saving grace was the little  _ head chef _ labeled on the door, keeping him from barging into someone else's cabin. He felt like he circled the stupid boat 3 times before he found the right door.

He started to take off his wet pants, but stopped, since his only other pair of clothes were Sanji’s extra sleep pants he had given Zoro to use, and he had no idea how to get those back to the bathroom without them getting wet too. Thunder rumbled outside, and he cursed. He’d just run back down, try his best at taking the stupid pants off and clean up, put them back on, get soaked, and put the dry pants on in the bedroom. For now he’d eat his food, left on the table with a big note that said  _ breakfast-Zoro _ in Sanji’s swirly handwriting. It was just bread and some dried meat, but filling. He wanted to get back to the showers to wash his back, since it itched. His arms itched too, which was weird. He looked at them, turning them over in the light. 

There were thin little pink lines on his skin, like fresh scratches. Faint, but there. Had he been rolling on the floor in his sleep and getting scrapes from board nails, or the wood? Maybe it had been from Sanji, when they were fighting, but the position was weird. And Sanji didn't fight by scratching him like some cat. He looked over at the little mirror Sanji kept hanging on the wall, turning to get a look at his back. 

Neat red lines trailed down his shoulders at an angle. Ten little pieces of evidence, temporarily carved in his skin. 

He...knew those marks. He’d had those marks on his back before, the  _ only  _ marks he’d ever let show up on the skin there. Quick to fade but where they had  _ come from _ -

He’d had sex last night. Or he think he did. Someone had left nail marks on his shoulder blades, clean little marks that told a story of someone underneath him, thrown in pleasure and holding him close while clawing at him for stability. He racked his brain, trying to remember, since the only person he  _ wanted  _ to have sex with was-

But that couldn't have happened. But he’d had sex with someone! Images were coming back, a few words, the taste of oak, white heat. But it  _ couldn't _ have been the cook. Sanji didn't have any interest in him, had never shown even the smallest  _ hint _ of being interested. 

Zoro looked at the door. Did Sanji know? Would Sanji have remembered if they had slept together, or if Zoro had been so shit faced he had screwed around with some other chef? Zoro was pretty sure that Sanji wouldn't be able to pull off acting so normal if they had screwed, since  _ Zoro  _ was freaking out in their room. Of course, Zoro was in goddamn  _ love  _ with Sanji, so he had a few more reasons to freak out, but that just meant it made more sense for Zoro to want to sleep with Sanji, but still no reason why  _ Sanji  _ would want to sleep with  _ Zoro _ . 

He had to know. He  _ had  _ to know if he had somehow had sex with the person he loved, and if they knew too. He wanted to be honest with Sanji, about everything, he  _ did _ . But- he also didn't want Sanji to take all this the wrong way. He wouldn't regret last night if they had fucked, but he wouldn't let it stand as just that. He’d been dreaming about Sanji under him for so long, and now it might have happened and he didn't even  _ remember _ it. 

He didn't want Sanji to think it was just a drunk lay. He didn't want Sanji to think he was anything less than everything Zoro had ever wanted. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji was eyeing a bite mark in the mirror. He’d managed to get out of his clothes to shower, but with no other option he had to put the same wet ones back on. Right now he was in his pants, shirt in hand, looking at the purple marking on his shoulder and neck. The bite marks Zoro had left. When they’d been grinding on each other like honry teenagers. 

Sanji buried his red face in his hands.  _ He  _ was the one who had thought it was a good idea to get Zoro and himself drunk, and then he sat himself down on Zoro’s freaking  _ lap _ , taunting him about sex, practically  _ telling _ Zoro to fuck him. 

And fucking hell! The shit  _ Zoro _ had said! Who knew that mr. I-only-care-about-swords-and-booze had a dirty side! What the fuck! Was it just the booze? Or was Zoro  _ actually  _ kind of a kinky fuck? And why,  _ why  _ did Sanji like that!?

Sanji groaned, more worked up at the stuff he remembered them saying than anything they had really done. They hadn’t necessarily  _ really  _ fucked, just kind of fooled around, but Sanji had sat himself down on Zoro like some 5 beli whore and then built himself up like he was some,  _ sex god  _ or some shit. God, what a shitty mess.  _ He  _ was a shitty mess. Luckily it didn't seem like Zoro remembered, which was an absolute blessing. 

Well, a blessing in some ways. Sanji kinda wanted to have sex with him. Ok, he  _ definitely _ wanted to have sex with him, he’d admit that. A few days ago he’d had a dream where he kissed Zoro, and then he thought Zoro was hot, and now he wanted to have sex with him. Honestly, kind of normal logic for Sanji’s brain. But this was more than just a sudden attraction. This was Zoro, his  _ nakama,  _ who he respected and kind of liked and thought of as a friend and  _ did he have a crush on Zoro _ ??

Sanji nearly screamed  _ again _ as Zoro kicked open the door, without knocking,  _ again _ . 

 

“Would it  _ kill _ you to knock? Is that why you don't fucking do it? You’d just literally die if you were even a  _ little  _ polite!?”

 

Well at least nothing changed, crush or not. A small blessing, Sanji thought. Zoro didn't respond, seemingly more focused on staring at Sanji. 

 

“What? If you want more food you’ll have to wait until lunch time. Whenever that is.”

 

Sanji turned, flicking the tap on to get some water to rinse his mouth out. He’d grab his toothbrush later. 

 

“What, uh, happened to your neck?”

 

Zoro sounded like he was being strangled, and Sanji looked at him in the mirror. He looked calm, a little grouchy. Normal Zoro. Sanji took a deep breath, not looking at him. 

 

“I think I fell yesterday, in the rain. And slept funny. Or maybe it was when we were fighting, who knows.”

 

He splashed some water in his face, an excuse to hide his face. 

 

“...Oh. Um, ok. Sorry?”

 

Sanji turned around, wiping the water from his face. He pointed to the giant bruise over his left ribs. 

 

“Don't be sorry for those flea bites, be sorry for this!”

 

“Well you kicked me in the balls!”

 

Sanji did feel bad for that.

 

“Well, you-! Should shower!”

 

_ Nice one, Sanji. Real smart.  _

 

“Well that’s why came back down, shit-cook!”

 

“Well then do it!”

 

“Fine!”

 

“Fine!”

 

Sanji stomped out of the bathroom, not caring about the heavy rain so much. He stomped all the way back to the room, changed into some blissfully dry clothes, and collapsed on the bed. 

Holy shit. He had a crush on  _ that _ .

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Zoro stared at the door, and then at Sanji’s forgotten white shirt. He remembered that shirt now, from last night. Along with those bite marks on Sanji’s skin. 

They  _ had  _ had sex. Or fooled around at least. Zoro was sure of it, remembering how he had left those marks, sinking his teeth into Sanji’s skin as they moved against each other. Sanji had worn that shirt, hadn’t even taken it off, which was a shame since Zoro didn't think he’d gotten to explore the blonde’s chest. At the same time though he thought Sanji’ would’ve looked downright sinful wearing that shirt and nothing else. That was for another time though. 

So he and Sanji had fooled around, and Sanji didn't remember. Last night he sure seemed into it, but what about now, when they were thinking clearly? If Sanji had remembered, would he have wanted to do it again? Would he have told Zoro to fuck off? What did Sanji  _ want _ ? 

How could he let Sanji go, now that he’d tasted the idea of Sanji, willing and wanting against him? Of Sanji, telling Zoro he wanted to  _ wreck _ him for fucks sake? He didn't think he’d ever be able to look at anyone again after remembering those images, remembering those words. 

Zoro turned on the shower, doing his best to take off his pants and finally pulling them off his legs. He threw them by Sanji’s shirt, eager for the warm water on his skin. He pushed away the idea of Sanji there with him, under the spray and damn, now that he had a taste his imagination was really going all out. He waved at the imaginary images, focusing. 

Maybe the answer to getting together with Sanji  _ was  _ sex? Zoro had known Sanji a long time, and the cook certainly gave a lot away through action. He and Sanji could read each other so well because of those years of fighting, both against each other and side by side. Zoro was less a man of words and more of action, so that worked for him. But sex for Sanji could mean something differnt for Zoro. Sanji probably had more experience, was used to the always changing rotation of people, the ones who never stayed. He might not want someone to stay, might not like the idea of having the same person more than once or twice. 

But that wasn't true. Sanji was a romantic sap, always had been. Hell, he’d been prattling on about finding a true love since day one. The hard part was that Zoro just didn't know if Sanji could ever see him as anything other than nakama, or even a fuck buddy. And Zoro was selfish. He wanted Sanji’s all. 

He could try sex. If he and Sanji could get to that level, maybe it wouldn't seem so strange if Zoro told him how he felt. Maybe if they got to that level, Sanji would give him a chance. 

It was stupid. It was definitely stupid, but shit, Zoro wasn't sure what was up and what was down anymore. Sanji was a mixed bag of anything goes and don't do anything, and Zoro just didn't know where to go anymore. All he knew was the same thing he had always known. 

He just loved the cook. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji and Zoro were playing cards again. 

They’d had lunch already, going through the day in a somewhat weird silence, utterly bored. Sanji thought that he, himself, was nothing short of a completely composed and collected man, and if Zoro suspected anything he wasn't letting onto it. The swordsman had gone back to the pantry to get his jacket and sash, and crazily enough not more booze, for which Sanji was thankful. Sanji had gone in and out to check on crew members and the kitchen, for lack of anything else to do, and neither of them even remembered what it felt like to be dry at this point. Sanji suspected Zeff was spending the break snoring away and reading bad romance novels. 

 

“Which one’s were the hearts again?”

 

Sanji pointed to the warm water fish. They had switched up games, Sanji trying to teach the marimo about a card game all the chef’s liked, which was when they changes all the suites for types of fish, and you won if you got the best balanced taste combination. Sanji knew this was completely lost on Zoro, but it was fun for Sanji, and he was  _ winning  _ for once, so Zoro could deal with it. 

 

“Ok, this one?”

 

Sanji looked at the two cards Zoro showed him. A green bellied flounder and an orange snapper pike. Ok, but not great. He showed Zoro his own cards and the fish they represented. 

 

“Mine win. See this little blue one? You had it the other day for dinner, it's rare in most places. Really delicate, melts in your mouth. Put that with this guy, who’s a bit tougher and tastes like squid, and it's great. Hard and soft.”

 

Sanji mentally winced. He’s pretty sure he’d said something like that last night in a different context. 

 

“Yeah, whatever. If these were swords, I’d win.”

  
Sanji rolled his eyes. 

 

“Well we don't have a  _ sword  _ encyclopedia, we have fish.”

 

They continued playing in silence. By Sanji’s 4th win, Zoro refused to keep playing. 

 

“Why doesn't anyone attack you during the storm? Where the hell are all the other pirates?”

 

Zoro flopped back on the floor. Sanji put away the cards and his well loved encyclopedia. 

 

“They’d get tossed around by the storm twice as much as us, so unlikely. Gimme some recipe ideas, will you?”

 

Sanji got out his latest recipe journal, thinking about anything new he could try. He looked over at Zoro, nudging his foot to make sure he was still awake. 

 

“I don't know, is there any fish you  _ haven't  _ cooked, cook?”

 

Sanji thought. There were some mythical fish, but he’d never pursued looking into them. He’d heard of a guy who killed and cooked a fishman before, but Sanji shuddered at the idea. Way too close to cannibalism, not to mention morally wrong. 

 

“Not really. Just shout out some ideas. Anything.”

 

“Fine, fine. Uh, squid and pork. Jellyfish. Sea king...pie. Fish eyes.”

 

“You’ve eaten all of those before.”

 

“Well no sh-I ate fish eyes?”

 

Sanji raised a brow at Zoro, giving him an unimpressed look. 

 

“Yes, you ate fish eyes. You’ve also eaten animal brain, liver, stomach, tail and testicles.”

 

Zoro gave him an appalled look. Sanji rolled his eyes. 

 

“You fed me  _ testicles _ ?”

 

“Yes, dumbass. If it’s edible, I make it. Nothing goes to waste.”

 

Zoro rolled onto his stomach, mouth still twisted into a scowl. 

 

“Still though. What other weird stuff did you feed us?”

 

Sanji got up and opened one of his sea chests. He had his journals carefully organized inside, and he reached in to pick up a few from his time on Goring Merry. The leather binding them was worn and soft, paper yellowed. He sat back down on the floor, Zoro eyeing him curiously. 

 

“Everything I’ve ever cooked for you is written in these. You can look, if you want.”

 

It was quiet as Zoro hesitated, and then reached out, fingers brushing against one of the books. He picked it up and brought it close, looking to Sanji. 

 

“You really wrote down every single thing you cooked for us? Every day?”

 

Sanji nodded. He thumbed the worn pages of his very first sailing journal with the straw hats. He’d always found peace in writing down his recipes, in replaying what had been made and consumed and enjoyed. Just like any other kind of journal, these were his memories, precious and full. 

 

“At first it was just to take notes on everyone’s diets and what people liked and disliked, but I guess I had fun with it. Even the not so great dishes were still linked to stuff that happened that day. It seems boring on paper, but I remember because of these. It’s all more than just food.”

 

Zoro didn't respond. He looked through the pages of the journal before him, and Sanji watched, suddenly nervous. 

This was something new. Sharing like this, barring himself like this- this was a brand new thing happening and it was happening with Zoro. And with Zoro, things were, different now. 

Zoro as nakama was old. Zoro as a friend was recent. Zoro as a romantic interest was brand fucking new. Zoro as a  _ sexual  _ interest was new. 

This Zoro, right now, reading a part of Sanji’s soul on the floor of their room, was old and new and very, very important. 

 

“I remember this one. The side dish, with the yellow stuff- it made Chopper sneeze non stop because it was too spicy for him.”

 

Sanji leaned over, his hair falling close to Zoro’s face. He studied the page, pretending his heart wasn't beating like a rabbits. Saffron chili and thyme written in faded ink. 

 

“That was the first time I realized how sensitive his nose was. Most of his sense of taste comes from his smell.”

 

Zoro gave a little smile, looking up at Sanji with his one dark eye, so close and soft with hair still damp. He was a little beautiful, enough to be heartbreaking. Sanji wondered why he had never seen it before. 

 

“You did a good job. With him.”

 

Sanji blushed. He leaned back, letting his hair hide his face. 

 

“Just with him?”

 

There was a pause, and Sanji peaked through his messy hair. Zoro’s eye fluttered to him, then away again. 

 

“With all of us. You took good care of all of us.”

 

Sanji didn't answer. His heart thudding in his chest beat louder than the thunder outside. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Hours later when the rain was still tearing through the air and Sanji had stopped tossing and turning, Zoro lay awake in bed. 

He couldn't sleep. Beside him, Sanji’s breathing was deep and even, his hair splayed out around his closed eyes. He was there, right beside Zoro, achingly sweet and handsome and it twisted up Zoro’s insides. 

There’d been something there, earlier. Something in the air that was different, he was sure. Maybe it had been one sided, all in Zoro’s head like usual, but Sanji had been. Different. 

Something quiet and boyish had seemed to come out a little. Something shy almost. He’d blushed, Zoro swore he had seen it, when his skills as a cook had been complimented in that little way. There was something so honest, open and young and unsteady in how Sanji had been then. Completely different from his loud, confident, foul mouthed brazenness. It was a new side to the cook that Zoro had never been privy to, and he wondered,  _ hoped _ , part of it could be caused by Zoro. 

He didn't know how to, flirt. He didn't know how to be subtly really, or graceful with his compliments. He didn't know anything about romance other than what he had learned from  _ Sanji _ , and none of it was helpful in romancing said man. But Zoro wanted to give Sanji what he  _ wanted _ , what he deserved as someone who deserved to be loved. And the cook probably wanted romantic. Which Zoro didn't know how to do. 

Sanji mumbled something quietly in his sleep, and Zoro reached over to touch a lock of hair, move it away from the man’s eyes. He wanted permission to hold this man close, touch him gently, whisper soft words. He wanted all the harshness they had in daylight, and then he wanted to flip it and be able to give Sanji all the other things too. A soft kiss, a hard kiss, hand holding and fighting. Love, above all else. 

 

Sanji rolled over, body moving towards Zoro’s warmth. A pale hand rested on his collar bone, limp and vulnerable. 

 

“You’re kinda killing me here, y’know that?”

 

He said it in a whisper, fingers stroking the fine hair that kissed the bed sheets. 

 

“I’ve never gotten this far with you. I didn't think I could.”

 

He traced the bones of Sanji’s limp fingers, feather light. Sanji slept on, breathing easy and practically in Zoro’s arms.  _ I want more _ , he thought.  _ I am selfish, I want more, I’m sorry. _

He closed his eyes, because looking at Sanji made him want to say more, do more, be stupid. He’d wait, just like he always had, working hard for something precious. Turning coal into diamonds with his bare hands, slow and steady without turning away. A little impossible, entirely foolish. 

He decided right then, balancing on the edge of it all, that he’d tell Sanji. At the very least about last night, about what had happened. It would either be a start or an end, and Zoro wanted a beginning.  

  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo i've eaten sheep testicles they're gross  
> boy do I love going in circles and skirting around the elephant in the room huh  
> they WILL GET TOGETHER i promise i swear i just love throwing shit at them and honestly this is just such a fun thing to write! Thank you for all the comments so far, I'm so so sorry I dont reply to them all I fully know im a horrible person forgive me or dont but enjoy yourself anyways


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fellas is it gay to say you'd date your crewmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> throwing this chapter in because the other part of the sparring session isnt done yet! Will update with it sooner tho since I've been all over the place lately

  
  


The third day of the storm seemed to be both Sanji’s and the crew’s limit. The head chef wanted human interaction that was stimulating rather than draining, and everyone was chomping at the bits to break out of their cabins. With Sanji’s go-ahead given, doors practically burst open, weather be damned. Chefs spilled out into the storm, white tunics habitually worn and making the dark sky less oppressive. 

The crew was allowed out of their bunks so long as they moved in pairs, and most had made the kitchens a gathering spot. By lunch everyone was playing the weird fish card game that Zoro didn’t get, so he passed his time watching Sanji laugh with the other chefs. Everyone was wisely leaving the swordsman to himself, and that suited him just fine. 

Zeff made various appearances, mostly to tell everyone to shut the hell up or comment on the cards. Sanji and Zeff has been banned from playing cards together by the entire crew from the get go, and Zoro wondered what the story was behind that. 

 

“Can’t beat cod with shark, we agreed on that.”

 

A few chefs groaned as Sanji and another chef cheered, laying down their cards and apparently winning. Zoro was pretty sure a shark could beat a cod fish in a fight but he still didn’t understand the game and he didn’t feel like Sanji poking fun at him for not getting it. 

 

“Oi, marimo! Come decide the winner!”

 

Zoro glanced over. It was apparently a tie between Sanji and the other man, and all eyes were on him now, thanks to the cook. 

 

“Whoever isn’t the shit-cook, wins.”

 

The card box bounced off his head and he glared at it, then Sanji. 

 

“Get your ass over here and do a proper judging, moss head.”

 

Zoro sighed. He wanted to go back to the room but he didn’t want to leave the cook. Sanji, being someone who, for whatever reason, actually  _ liked  _ talking to people, wanted to play with all the others. Zoro had been unable to find a single good opportunity to mention the fact that they had had sex the previous night and was desperately trying to work up a plan to get Sanji’s back to the room, where at the very least they would be alone. For whatever reason, the cook seemed equally as keen on  _ not  _ going back to the room. 

He got up and walked over to where the smaller group of chefs were sitting in a circle, and he leaned in close over Sanji’s shoulder to get a good look. He felt the cook stiffen as he got closer, but paid it no mind. The carefully measured distance he had always had with the other man was closing now, and if Sanji noticed and dared to comment, it only worked in Zoro’s favor. It was a somewhat aggressive stance, but all was fair in love and war and their relationship had always verged on the war category.

He eyed the cards in both hands, not really giving a shit or understanding even a little. The other chef had a higher number. 

 

“He’s got a king, so doesn’t he win?”

 

Sanji taped the swordsman's nose with the cards, tutting. 

 

“No, remember? The suit represents the category of fish, and the number picks the name. I’ve got a 4 of clubs, so that means cold water lobster.”

 

Zoro looked at the cards. He didn’t see anything that resembles a lobster, and they weren’t using the book because all the damn chefs had it memorized. How the hell was he supposed to know what any of it meant?

 

“Isn’t it kinda unfair that he’s the judge? He’s just gonna pick Sanji-san.”

 

Zoro looked over at the guy who spoke. He was a middle aged man with a fluffy beard and a childish pout. Sanji made a noise of protest. 

 

“The marimo’s a fair judge since he won’t ‘ _ just pick me _ ’. Why would he just pick me?”

 

There was a collective shared look between the few chefs, making Zoro wary. He was still leaning towards Sanji, probably a little more than could possibly look innocent. Sanji seemed equally perturbed by the looks, judging from the tenseness of his back. 

 

“Well aren’t you two, y’know. Together?”

 

Sanji and Zoro froze. Sanji seemed torn between kicking the guys face in and laughing, and Zoro was already annoyed at both. He wasn't interested in dealing with the cook’s sure to come insults about a comment like that, and he sure as hell wasn't interested in the bit of hurt he’d have to deny from receiving it. 

Sanji hadn’t spoken yet though, and the kitchen had gone quiet and uncomfortable. A few eyes had started drifting his way, like  _ he _ was the source of answers since Sanji had chosen this one rare and shit-tastic moment to be quiet for once in his life.

The word  _ no _ was already half-formed on his tongue when an idea struck him. It wasn't his best idea, and he didn't know what  _ results _ it would get him really, but he didn't usually think things over so why start now?

 

“Yup, me and the love-cook are madly in love. Glad that’s public knowledge, right  _ sweetheart _ ?”

 

If looks could kill. Sanji looked 2 seconds away from launching himself at Zoro, but damn if the blush on his face wasn’t priceless. The cards in his hand were crumpled by his clenched fists, and Zoro could practically  _ hear  _ his teeth grinding. The other chefs were being wisely quiet, probably carefully attuned to Sanji’s mood and how it could affect their career. And lifespan. 

 

“... _ What _ did you just call me?”

 

The cook had his dangerous little voice on now, the kind that wasn't a total whisper but was a lot quieter than his usual volume. It promised a lot of bodies hitting the floor and Zoro was a little obsessed with bringing it out. He’d be the first to admit that a pissed off Sanji was a hot Sanji, and considering he was one of the few who could survive a pissed off Sanji, he’d enjoy it like his own personal treat. Zoro thought it was interesting though, that the blonde seemed more interested in the pet name than the relationship aspect, but everytime Zoro tried to understand the man he just ended up with a headache. 

 

“Oh, right, I forgot you only like being called that in private.”

 

Zoro had to harden his arm because he couldn't draw his blade in time, and the impact of Sanji’s kick caused all the cards to flutter into the air. The other men in the room had scooted further back, fearful but still insatiably curious enough to stay. Sanji was still red as his own burning leg, teeth bared in a snarl. Zoro loved it.

 

“I’m going to break your ugly face and then cut off your head and use it as decoration like a fucking house plant if you don't take that shit back  _ right now _ .”

 

Both men stood now, and only three chefs remained, huddled by the door and obviously interested in the show but ready to bolt should things get too crazy. Zoro had a sword ready. 

 

“Ok, ok, calm down.”

 

Sanji narrowed his eyes, waiting. Zoro turned to the three chefs.

 

“He actually prefers ‘sugar’ but-

 

The force of the kick hitting the blade made the cabinets shutter this time, and the rest of the chefs decided that was their cue to leave. The door swung shut and Sanji went full force, face red with a combination of embarrassment and anger. 

 

“You fucking  _ jackass! _ ”

 

Zoro rolled behind a counter, flinging himself over the next one. He was at a disadvantage fighting in the kitchens since if he cut all the shit up, Sanji would be twice as pissed. 

 

“Don’t be mad,  _ babe _ .”

 

Zoro deflected a burning kick, dodging as the cook’s legs went high. Sanji pressed a heel hard enough to force Zoro’s hand back an inch.  

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!? Now my crew thinks we’re fucking  _ dating  _ or some shit!”

 

Zoro pushed back easily, perfectly capable of ending the fight with his own strength against Sanji’s less practiced and distressed power. He’d let Sanji have at it though.

 

“Who gives a shit? They’ll think it’s weird for two seconds and move on to the next stupid news.”

 

Sanji stomped his foot on the ground, clearly more frustrated at this point than angry, torn between wanting to kick Zoro’s face in and being dramatic and leaving. 

 

“I get that  _ you  _ don't care about what people think, but  _ I do _ ! For fucks sake Zoro! My crew has to respect me!”

 

Sanji deflated, rubbing his head. Zoro felt his mood darken, and the warmth in the pit of his stomach die out and get ground to ash. He was choking on it, like he’d swallowed all of Sanji’s cigarettes. 

 

“So being with me is that shameful of an idea, huh.”

 

He could see the way that hit Sanji, the way he was already backtracking in his head, ready to apologize. He always did let his heart hang on his sleeve and drip on his hands. 

 

“I didn't mean-

 

Zoro held up a hand. 

 

“Nah, I get it. You think I’m stupid and ugly and got no class, so of course you’d lose face being with someone like that.”

 

Sanji looked like he wanted to swallow his tie. Zoro didn't feel bad for him. He hurt something fierce and familiar.

 

“...You’re not stupid-

 

“Which is why I know you’re not really sorry, cook.”

 

“Oh fuck off! You threw that shit at me hoping to humiliate me to begin with, so don't act all high and mighty! Who the fuck wants to be someones fake partner? Or-or their idea of a  _ joke _ ? It’s one thing to play around but you-

 

He cut himself off, pursing his lips and looking away. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and Zoro crossed his arms, unimpressed. Sanji’s visible eye flitted around, and he gave a deep sigh, returning his gaze to Zoro. He stood a bit straighter.

 

“Look, I don't think being your,  _ partner  _ or whatever, is some kind of insult. I mean, you’re the world’s greatest swordsman, so how is that bad? And you’re not-  _ bad _ looking. Green hair is weird, sure, but it’s not...well it's not  _ bad _ .”

 

“You sure know how to make a guy feel special, don't ya.”

 

“I wasn't  _ finished _ asshole. What I’m trying to say here, is that being with you  _ wouldn't  _ be bad because, it’d be, kinda...good.”

 

Sanji’s face was pink, hands stuck so deep in his pockets it was like he was searching for his socks. He was chewing on his lip and looking at his shoes while Zoro’s heart jumped to his mouth. 

It sounded like. It  _ sounded  _ like-

 

“...Kinda good?”

 

It sounded so close to being-

 

“Yeah. Kinda good.”

 

Sanji had finally stopped staring down his own shoes to make eye contact with Zoro and there was  _ something _ , there was  _ something _ . Like how Luffy’s dark eyes could shine like black pearls, like how Chopper bared his teeth like a true animal. It was in the depths, carved out after the layers were taken away and the person was left-

Honest. 

 

“So to you, being with me would be...kinda good?”

 

Sanji’s boyish embarrassment turned hostile, his ears reddening further. 

 

“What are you, a tone dial or some shit? Yeah, I said it, now drop it already.”

 

“No! No, I’m not making fun of you, I’m just. Surprised.”

 

They were back to being 19 again and all elbows and legs and awkwardness. Zoro felt like he was getting growing pains again, shoulders so tense from the embarrassment alone that he’d crack something. 

 

“Yeah, well, it's true. A person can do a lot worse than the world’s greatest swordsman.”

 

Zoro’s mouth moved before he could think better. 

 

“ _ You _ could do a lot better.”

 

Sanji’s eyes widened.

 

“Huh?”

 

_ Do not back away,  _ he thought. For once, for  _ once _ , let some of it out. 

 

“Well shit, as long as we’re being honest, I’d say being seen as you partner would be a pretty decent compliment.”

 

“You don't mean that.”

 

It was wrong to hear that. He didn't say it to invite pity, Sanji just honestly didn't think he was worth as much as he was. 

 

“Come on, cook. You’ve seen yourself, you own a damn mirror. You get a hell of a lot of attention, I mean shit, half your staff wants to get in your pants. I saw a waiter trip because he was staring at your ass like Luffy stares at meat.”

 

Sanji blinked, and Zoro realized that maybe, actually, Sanji  _ wasn't  _ as aware of his appearance despite all the self grooming. All that effort into hair and clothes and  _ presentation _ or whatever, and Sanji didn't even  _ get it _ .

 

“Ok, maybe, but- it's different when it comes from you. It means something.”

 

A pause. Zoro felt like he was breathing up all the air in the whole room. 

 

“What does it mean?”

 

Sanji seemed torn between something. Like his mind and his mouth couldn't quite come to the right conclusion. 

 

“I guess it means something...kinda good.”

 

He gave a little smile with it, and Zoro wondered if he had any idea just how charming he was being. All his endless failings at fawning over women and right here, in his honest little endearment, he could have stolen so many hearts. Just another thing the cook had no idea about, had no  _ clue  _ to the amount of gathered adoration he’d actually left behind.

 

“Well that’s- Good.”

 

An awkward silence followed by a nervous chuckle on both sides. Sanji ruffled his own hair, grabbing Zoro’s attention again as he spoke.

 

“This is weird, right? I mean  _ this _ -

 

The cook gentured between them.

 

-this isn’t, how we usually do shit. We used to just say two words and then go at each other, but look at us! I mean, hell, you sayin’ shit like-like I’m  _ decent _ .”

 

All Zoro could do was laugh, embarrassed all ways back and forth and Sanji just joined him. The rain hit the porthole windows like soft bullets. 

 

“We’re not dumb kids anymore, though. I can admit that I respect you, always have. Don't know why it was so hard to just- say.”

 

Sanji grinned, cheeks still stained pink.

 

“‘Cuz you hated my guts, asshole.”

 

“Well you  _ were _ a total shit-head. Well, you still are.”

 

They laughed, the goofiness sliding off their skins. The mood sombered. 

 

“So then what changed? Don't get me wrong, I like what we got going now, but it’s still weird. I see you and I don't immediately want to break your head against the floor, which is crazy.”

 

Zoro thought about that while Sanji seemed to do the same. Zoro knew what changed though, or when it had all first changed. His attraction towards Sanji had shifted way back then when the ocean was just a world still open and unknown and a little frightening. His desire for the cook had morphed into something far deeper, something close to terrifying with how viceral it was. But Zoro hadn’t changed his behavior based on that. He had desperately sought the normalcy of the viciousness linking them together rather than anything else. 

Somewhere after the world bowed its head to Luffy, Zoro was able to grow the fuck up a little and realize it didn't need to be like that. He could still think Sanji was an asshole, was a prissy, foul-mouthed moron, but he could admit he loved the fuck out of the man. There could be something in between that love-hate that tangled up their feet when they were together. 

And there was something. There was  _ something _ .  

 

“I don't know exactly if it was just one big thing that changed. All I can say is that I like this- I like what this thing is with us, right now. I like being your friend.”

 

Sanji looked struck dumb, visible eye wide. The pink dusting his cheeks returned with a vengeance, and Zoro just couldn't help but smile at that. The tint of his skin, altered by Zoro’s words. 

 

“...Well shit. I like being your friend too, moss-head.”

 

There was something. It was still 200 miles away from  _ I love you _ but over a million miles closer than when they’d started. The word  _ friend  _ rang out in Zoro’s head, smile melting into something a little fake, the fear overwhelming him suddenly. 

Here was Sanji, as his  _ friend _ , who he had made such leaps and bounds with and now- now this was in so much risk.

Now there was so much more to lose. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  


The storm cleared up remarkably fast, but that was weather on the grand line for you. Wake up to a blizzard, go to bed to a heat wave and all that. Sanji had gotten used to it pretty fast way back at the beginning, and since getting struck by lighting by some asshole on a literal sky island, not much fazed him anymore. 

The head chef was shouting orders left and right, getting everything put back in place and ready for business again. Setting the ship back up wasn't the same as it was on Sunny, since everything had to look far more presentable. The cleanness of the sails mattered here, and at least one customer was sure to notice if there was a crack in a banister or a tear in a cloth. Sanji wanted perfection, and it was his ship, so he would have it.

He knew he was overworking his crew just a bit. He knew it was absolutely petty to do it based on his embarrassment over getting made a fool by Zoro, but his chefs were the ones thinking they had been  _ together _ . So a little extra mopping wouldn't kill anyone. Zoro was still going to punished though, since whether he knew it or not, he had tapped into the territory of playing with Sanji’s feelings, and like hell he’d be getting booze after that shit. 

 

“Do you want the flag raised, head-chef?”

 

Sanji hummed, inspecting the freshly washed flag the younger chef had brought over. It was simple, and read  _ All Blue _ , and not nearly as large as the banner hanging along the front of the ship, similar to the Baratie. The flag, however, had a little straw hat in the corner, like a leftover signature from the pirate king. A sign of loyalty, and a symbol that opened challenge. 

A challenge. Possible threats of all sort, be it human or sea king could arise at any moment. Sanji looked over at the chef before him, a man who could throw knives with beautiful accuracy but not much else. He scanned the main deck. 

Of all his men, his sous-chef came as strongest behind himself, Zoro, and Zeff. The sous-chef’s strength still only measured to about 3/4 of Zeff’s, and though the old man could kick up a storm and raise all hell, he’d be no match for some of the other powers in the grandline that stood where Sanji and Zoro did. His crew, put simply and harshly, were not as strong as he would have liked. 

 

“Not yet. We’ll be closed another day.”

 

The chef looked taken aback. He still folded the flag quickly and dutifully, but remained in his curiousness. 

 

“Are we in need of strong repairs?”

 

Sanji shook his head no. He could sense with his haki that Zoro was lounging nearby, being useless and keeping his distance, surely still just as shaken up as Sanji from a conversation boiled over with heavy emotions. He brought his fingers to his lips to deliver a loud, shrill whistle, one that stopped feet and turned heads. 

 

“Move the tables back inside and clear the deck!”

 

A few men remained still, confused, while the more adaptive quickly followed orders. Everyone eventually followed, clearing the deck of the usual chairs and tables and lights. Sanji reached into his coat pocket, grabbing a cigarette. His lips curled into a crooked smile, smoke drifting through as he spoke. 

 

“It’s sparring time! Everyone get whatever shit they need and get the fuck out here!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well fellas it was gay. And so here we have progress the size of an ant and still I have not made the time to respond to the gorgeous and magnificent and far too kind comments so i'm gonna go try and finish this next chapter and then sleep for 2 days


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit from a certain someone shows up to get the ball rolling, so to speak

-oOo-

  
  
  


Zoro had a prime seat for the show from where he was sitting on the lower mast. He was nestled comfortably against the wood, legs propped out and eye keenly open, taking in the movements not too far away. 

He’d heard the cook earlier, of course. It was hard to  _ not  _ hear the cook when he wanted attention, and he’d been dreading getting dragged into chores only to be pleasantly surprised at the turn of events. He’d get to see not only Sanji fight, but Sanji test his crew, and that made for a rather interesting performance to Zoro. 

 

“Again!”

 

The cook was currently standing against 5 waiters, who apparently worked as a well balanced team. They were fast, and could maybe beat a decent pirate of the grandline with their fluidy in teamwork, but they lacked overall power. That, and they were against Sanji. 

They’d gone for defense the first time, probably catching on from the first couple of fights that close range with the cook was a big mistake. When Sanji had engaged them first, they thought they’d had the advantage, and paid for that thought by landing overboard. The second time they’d gone with offense, but split up in an attempt to overwhelm. Another mistake, since they lost the strength they had by becoming individual targets. One guy had landed quite near Zoro, and hadn't looked keen on a third go. They were on their fourth now. 

 

“Analyze! If you’re not strong enough, make up for it! Be creative for fucks sake!”

 

Zoro could tell that the cook was getting fed up with the kiddie bullshit. He was putting on a blank face, trying to give them some experience and not just pummel the group, but he barely had to move to end the fight. It read loud and clear as  _ boring _ . 

Two of the waiters had put everything into throwing a smaller guy at the cook, while the other two raced to back him up. Creative, yes. Effective, no. Sanji sent the projectile waiter into the other two, and snowball effect ended with all five piled in a defeated heap. 

 

“Good teamwork, keep thinking with strategie. Albert, your footwork is shit. Next!”

 

The waiters joined the other black and blue chefs, grabbing a provided ice pack from Patty and Carne. Somehow those two always seemed to come up with excuses annoying enough to Sanji that they could get out of being kicked. 

Zoro eyed the new guy with interest. He was huge, nearly three heads taller than the cook, and holding an iron meat mallet. His gut stuck out proudly, but the fat didn't hide the muscle. His face was young, and almost uncomfortably sweet though. Zoro realized he couldn't be more than a damn teenager, size or not. 

 

“Please go easy, Sanji-san.”

 

Instead of the usual sass the cook spout, Zoro watched as the blonde gave an easy smile. The kind that was a bit lazy but entirely trustworthy. 

 

“Well I can't have my best tenderizer out for business, can I? Now don't be leaving any big holes this time, and remember what I told you about your wrist.”

 

The young man beamed, cheeks round and red and looking far too innocent for someone holding a meat mallet the size of Nami. In an instant his smile was gone though, replaced by a determined frown. He charged at the cook, and to Zoro’s disappointment he was just as slow as someone his size was expected to be.

Sanji let him get close though, and Zoro was slightly surprised as the mallet swing down at a speed far quicker than any of his other movements. It was already promising, that he could move his arms so quickly to bring down a weapon of such weight. The force delivered was no joke either, and probably would have gone right through the floor like a knife in butter if Sanji hadn't caught the hit with his foot. 

 

“Better, but you’re still hesitating on the swing. You have to imagine me as the enemy.”

 

Sanji’s words probably resonated with the younger ears. For those still new to battle, hesitating was always a danger, and could mean death in an instant again those who wouldn't show mercy. Zoro looked down at the young man, not even holding a candle to Sanji, and wondered if the guy had the nerve to kill. Not everyone did, and sometimes that was fine. Sometimes it wasn't. 

The fight went on for a bit, mostly the cook giving direction, pushing back but not truly engaging. It ended with the boy on his back and the mallet being twirled on the toe of Sanji’s shoe.

 

“I’ll start lunch for everyone, so pair up for now. I want everyone pushing themselves, no slacking!” 

 

The chorus of  _ yes head-chef  _ followed Sanji across the deck, everyone moving swiftly to find partners or start shadow fighting. Zoro slid from his spot, following Sanji into the kitchen. Zeff was already there, stirring an enormous pot. 

 

“How old was that guy?”

 

Sanji grabbed two frying pans from a rack, placing them on the stove top next to Zeff before turning. 

 

“Yomi’s around 17 now. He showed up here scared as hell with nowhere to go and not much talent, but he knows meat and can butcher an animal in less than a minute.”

 

Zoro considered that. A kid like that hardly seemed like chef material, and he hadn't been overly impressing in the fight. His qualities didn't make Zoro think of anything special, or even needed. 

 

“If he’s not a good chef, why keep him around?”

 

Sanji cracked eggs into the pan, quick and clean with one hand. 

 

“Because I wasn't that good of a chef when I started, but someone still gave me a chance.”

 

Beside them, Zeff’s movements jerked a miniscule amount. Zoro watched them both in silence for a moment, the way both their backs were a little curved as they held themselves over their food. Fingers and wrists and arms dancing to something Zoro couldn't hear. 

He left them to that music.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji wasn't overly impressed by any of his men, but he believed in their potential, and they’d hold their own in fights to come. He’d given them their lunch break and time to digest, but he felt like there was something missing to the day. 

It bothered him, the idea that he couldn't push his crew as much as he wanted to. There was a line between leading and breaking with them, and hard men tended to have a hard time bending to the will of change. It’d taken himself years to do so, by his own conviction yes, but also by circumstances out of his control. He’d been beaten down, and then he’s gotten back up, but he didn't want his chefs to have to fall in order to rise. Was it too soft to want them to avoid that?

He looked over at Zoro, who was standing at the edge of the sparring, arms crossed and eye lazily catching movement. Sanji was well aware that Zoro had become the stronger of the two as years had passed and Sanji had settled in his own way. It stung, and in a primal part of his mind it demanded he bring his own blood to a boil so that he could overtake the difference and stand as an equal again. He had to control that part of his mind, remind himself that he was an equal, just different in the parts they had grown. Sanji had never been a better chef than as he was right now, and Zoro had never been a better swordsman, and those were the things that gave them both the most pride. 

Zoro caught him staring, and when Sanji didn't look away, Zoro made his way over. It made the chef’s heart beat a little quicker, just the sight of the man coming to him, for him. Dressed in all his tatters, he was still elegant the way predators are. Even when he spoke, it was smooth, controlled. It had balance. 

 

“Who’s the one there, with the black hair and orange shirt?”

 

Sanji looked out as his chefs, finding the described man. He was, in Sanji’s mind, unmatched when it came to preparing a perfect presentation with his food. Good in all areas, not quite excelling, but absolutely remarkable in arranging sliced carrots around a glaze. He was always selected for frosting work. 

 

“That’s Hugo. I usually put him with the pastry chefs, but he also serves as the main expediter.”

 

Zoro gave him a raised eyebrow. Sanji sighed. 

 

“It means he’s the bridge between the chefs and the waiters. He finalises the dishes, checks it's appearance, that stuff.”

 

Zoro nodded, and Sanji didn't think the swordsman actually gave a shit, or would even remember for that matter, but as long as he was on the boat he ought to know. Something about the way Zoro’s eye followed the man told Sanji there was something more than dish presentation to be aware of. 

 

“He’s gonna be your strongest.”

 

Sanji’s eyes widened, glancing back to Hugo. He’d spared with the man himself, finding potential like the rest, but a lack of stamina and not much drive. The man was passionate about his work in the kitchen, but nothing outside of it. He fought with a long serrated fish knife and used a pot lid like a shield, which relied too much on hands for Sanji’s taste.

 

“My sous-chef is my strongest. Hugo doesn't even participate in a fight unless he needs to.”

 

Zoro glanced back at Sanji, eye shining a little. 

 

“He’s holding back.”

 

Shocked, Sanji looked back to the man sparring with one of the sauciers. They were exchanging blows, a little out of breath but- 

Zoro was right. Hugo was avoiding each hit with a little too much ease.

 

“Well what the fuck. Why would he hold himself back like that?”

 

Zoro shrugged, arms still crossed but a grin twitching up at his mouth. 

 

“Who knows. But if he started training,  _ really  _ training, he’d be the best in no time.”

 

“How can you tell?”

 

Zoro hummed. Sanji was pissed at himself for not seeing what the swordsman could. Had he really overlooked one of his own so easily?

 

“It’s his control. He can contain his power well enough to fool everyone here, and then some. He could have chopped that other guy’s head off 6 different ways by now, but he slowed down the knife  _ and  _ took away the force.”

 

Sanji watched, opening his eyes with this information. 

It was there, of course. Hidden in the subtlety of precise movement, the man was acting out a performance. Legs moving for a counter move just a bit too smoothly and then waiting, only to engage when the other could strike closer. There was no winning involved, just testing. It made Sanji understand something else. 

 

“He’ll never push himself to be better.”

 

Zoro nodded in agreement. Sanji felt his shoulders slump a bit, the scene before him disappointing. It was something beyond Sanji, the notion of having skill and not refining it. Like leaving ingredients left to rot, it was just a waste. The truth of that settled bitterly in Sanji’s stomach. He felt so angry suddenly, at the situation. At himself and Hugo and maybe his whole crew even. Failure tucked somewhere in the corners of the ship, biting at Sanji’s ankles. 

 

“I can't stand shit like this. It’s  _ bullshit  _ and I hate it.”

 

Beside him, Zoro stood still and tall. 

 

“I know you do.”

 

Sanji watched as his chefs sparred, so many giving their all. Which ones had something to protect, had something to fight for, had a will to fight and fight and die fighting? Had some of them been afraid this whole time, holding back or hesitating or-

Was this Sanji’s failure?

 

“Zoro, I want you to help me.”

 

And Zoro was still there, still standing tall by his side. Sanji didn't even need to look, and he’d just be there, ready and willing and strong.

 

“‘Course I will.”

 

Of course he would. He was Zoro.  

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  
  


When they fought, it was ritualistic. It was a coming together, full of sequences that had precise orders and unspoken rules. It had always been something precious in the way they could move together through a passion that was not gentle and still graceful. 

Zoro had worked on this with Sanji for years. They’d mastered being angry at each other in the perfect way, and then they’d gotten even better at tearing into each other just enough for the pain to be surface only. To Zoro it was like getting reborn each time, losing his breath to Sanji only, only Sanji. 

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

Usually it wasn't something he asked, but Sanji was standing across from him on the clearned deck and it felt like the world was watching. Sanji had removed his jacket and tie, and the ends of his hair were fluttering out.

 

“No contact. You stop your swords before they touch, same as I stop my feet. We won't even leave bruises. Only blocking is allowed.”

 

Zoro would have found something like that boring in his youth, but he had always measured out a win with blood on the ground before he heard the breath of his blades. He could hear them all now, every inhale and exhale of the very wood beneath him, the chefs watching, the clouds moving. Sanji wanted this exercise in control. 

 

“What counts as a win?”

 

Sanji smirked, brushing a lock of hair from his face. 

 

“If you make contact, you loose. If I feel your sword even touch my shirt, it's my win.”

 

Zoro smirked back, unsheathing Wado. For control he wanted her alone in the fight. 

 

“You better not cheat and push yourself into the blade then, shit-cook.”

 

Sanji tapped his foot on the ground, checking the fit. He was still smirking, eyes hidden under gold hair.

 

“Just make sure you can keep up then, mold-head.”

 

They moved at the same time, the way they usually did when the thin line snapped and everything bubbled up into the need to move, the need to act. Wood creaked under their feet and the only sound was the ring on leather hitting steel, the air quivering around them. 

Zoro had to stop himself first, the end of his blade nearly scraping at Sanji’s shin, a breath away from kissing it and leaving a red slash. The blade remained unmoving, and then backed away enough for Sanji to flip to the side. The almost injury was acknowledged. 

It was nearly unnatural to be so confined by silence in the fight. There were no loud insults used to provoke this time, or yelling in the background. No sound to cover up every touch, every breath. Sanji breathed out, and so did Zoro, and the world they were in became enclosed.

Zoro nearly took a heel to the nose, stilling himself as Sanji did, the frozen moment put on display for everyone to see the type of precision they had learned. But the silence ate at Zoro, leaving his head too quiet and available for thought. The push and pull of the fight echoed himself with Sanji, this man he loved who seemed so unattainable. To tell or not to tell, to move or not to move; it was like Sanji was playing a game with him and wining without knowing the rules. 

He wanted to tell Sanji. As a man who valued honesty, he wanted Sanji to know, and he wanted to use the events that followed as his stepping stone towards the cook. Would the cook be angry, upset, sad? Would he accept it, deny it, reject it? What would it mean to Sanji, now that they had so openly acknowledged their friendship, that other feelings were involved? 

Again, the tip of Zoro’s blade nearly tore Sanji’s shirt and he had to focus hard on making his sword unable to cut. The Sharpness he had cultivated was rendered blunt by a change in angle. There was a smile on Sanji’s lips, and Zoro wished he wouldn't do that, wished he wouldn't look so  _ right _ .

It was easy to go on forever like that, moving and untouching and silent. They could have gone for days, quietly pushing and pushing but the moment had to end. Sanji relit a cigarette, and the blade was sheathed. A tie was accepted by both parties, and the spell broke. 

 

“And that, is what control looks like.”

 

Every time Sanji spoke the smoke escaped a little, and Zoro had to look away. The chefs around him stood still and unspeaking, awed into speechlessness. The swordsman was used to it, and so was the cook. 

 

“Alright, Zeff’s got the food ready. Go serve up.”

 

The chefs moved, dazed, into the kitchens. Sanji watched them, and Zoro watched Sanji. 

As the cook moved to join his men, Zoro reached out, taking his wrist, stopping him. 

It was on the tip of his tongue, right there and ready to fall out with a simple  _ can we talk _ to get Sanjie alone. The need to tell the cook the truth was burning in Zoro’s lungs, making the sea salt in the air sting. It was just a few words, surely it could be spoken easily. 

 

“What, marimo?”

 

Sanji, open and a little rumpled with bright eyes. Did he know that he could ask the world of Zoro- ask for his very life, and Zoro would give it to him?

 

“Can we...”

 

Just say it.  _ Can we talk _ . 

 

“Can we what, mossy?”

 

It was right there. Easy and simple and the hardest thing in the world. 

 

“Can we...spar some more later.”

 

Something in him withered at his own cowardice. It shrunk down and rattled against his bones, angry and dark. But Sanji just smiled, and that had always been worth so much anyways. 

 

“Yeah? You wanna go some more after lunch?”

 

Zoro nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak anymore, weighed down by what felt like a lie. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


The restaurant opened again without much flare, and Zoro went back to his watch duties in order to ignore the growing ache in his chest everytime he woke up next to Sanji. 

But the second day the All Blue was open again after the storm (and the sex), Zoro saw a very familiar little boat floating towards Sanji’s restaurant, he knew the day was going to be absolute shit. 

He was considering how to convince Sanji or Zeff or whoever the fuck he saw first to get the ship sailing  _ away  _ from what was coming when he realized that if he could see the boat with his naked eye, the person on the boat had already seen him. 

And damn, they didn't call him Hawk Eyes for nothing.

 

“Oi! Why aren't you on watch, marimo?”

 

Well there goes the escape plan. Sanji was marching over to him like an angry housewife, but instead of wielding a rolling pin he had those legs of his. Still, maybe he could just hide for a while. Or forever.

 

“Uh, bathroom.”

 

That had to work. Even if Sanji was skeptical, he wasn't one to stop a man from taking a piss. The cook’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his slim chest. He was biting his lip in a particular way he did when he wanted to smoke. 

 

“Fine. But if you’re not back up there in 5-

 

“Yeah great, hey listen, you should, uh...take a nap. Right now.”

 

The cook stared at him like he had started growing feathers from his head. This was the harder part; getting Sanji out of the way so he wouldn't run into Mihawk. In all their years, Zoro had been very,  _ very _ careful about who met the older swordsman and who didn't. Part of this was because the son of a bitch had the annoying tendency to ignore anyone he didn't hold interest in, and challenge whoever he did. The  _ main  _ reason was that Mihawk  _ knew thing _ . Specifically embarrassing and not good things. 

 

“And  _ why  _ should I so suddenly go take a nap?”

 

“Because, you…”

 

_ Think fast, be smart- _

 

“...You look like shit.”

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

“WELL  _ FUCK YOU _ !”

 

Zoro dodged a kick to the head, and decided to just run for it. Sanji was bound to either get fed up with chasing him of Zeff would show up and take Sanji if it went on for too long. Mihawk wouldn't be there for at least a good 20 minutes, maybe. 

 

“Don't shout near the customers, stupid eggplant!”

 

Zoro managed to get out of the way of Sanji’s leg and the cutting board that almost impaled him. A passing waiter wasn't so lucky, and took the cutting board to the face. Zoro winced.

 

“DON'T KILL MY WAITERS, SHITTY OLD MAN!”

 

“WELL THEN DON'T INTERRUPT THE GUESTS!”

 

With the cook nicely distracted, Zoro decided to make his exit. He weaved in and out of the tables, noting the regular patrons by how unaffected they were of the chaos. Most barely even paid him a passing look, which was new. 

He opened the first door he came across and took a sharp left, wandering down a hallway. He didn't know if he was back in the storage area of if he had stumbled on the other staff rooms, but he didn't care as long as-

 

“Greeting, Roronoa.”

 

“SHIT!”

 

Zoro nearly tripped backwards over his own feet. He drew two swords, haki on high alert, waiting for at least a dozen blows. 

None came. Zoro stood frozen as Mihawk simply eyed him like an unamusing insect of sorts. Zoro shivered as yet another familiar presence came up behind him. At least this one wasn't quite as threatening. 

 

“Wow, running away before we even say hi? Rude, Zoro.”

 

“Why are  _ you  _ here?”

 

Perona just rolled her eyes at Zoro, floating around him to hover by Mihawk. Zoro wondered where she had stashed her body for the time being. He wondered if he could throw it overboard without anyone noticing. 

 

“Gee, good to see you too. You’re a real charmer, did anyone tell you that?”

 

Zoro gritted his teeth, sheathing his swords. 

 

“ _ Why.  _ are you  _ here _ .” 

 

“Heard some interesting rumors about this place getting a weird new crew member. Although I mostly just wanted to try the four-headed-tuna dish everyone was raving about.”

 

Perona studied her nails, looking bored. Zoro looked at Mihawk, who stood so unnervingly still Zoro wasn't sure if the man even breathed. 

 

“I, too, heard some rather...interesting rumors of your location.”

 

Zoro swallowed. He should really have known this was going to happen sooner or later, but  _ still- _

 

“Why’d you bring  _ her _ ?”

 

Zoro ignored the indignant  _ hey _ from Perona. Mihawk stood unmoving and creepy as ever. 

 

“I have no control over her actions, nor do I have any reason to control them. Her visiting just so happens to coincide with mine.”

 

Perona stuck her tongue out at Zoro, a pleased little smirk on her lips. She floated over Zoro’s head, halfway through the floorboard when Zoro called out to her, panicked. 

 

“Hey! Who said you could just float around and fake-haunt this place?”

 

Perona poked her head through a wall, wrinkling her nose at Zoro. 

 

“What, afraid I’ll spook someone and they’ll fire you?”

 

Zoro growled at her, and she gave him an unimpressed look. Like Nami, Perona had the unfortunate disposition of not being afraid of Zoro. She was, however, terrified of Usopp, a fact that was hilarious but unhelpful in the current situation. 

 

“Look, just- get back in your body, eat some food, and leave. Isn't that why you came here?”

 

Perona looked at him with an annoyed frown, before a large, shark-like smile contorted her face. 

 

“Oh? Afraid I’ll stay longer, hmm? You wouldn't be  _ worried  _ about me running into a certain  _ someone _ , now would you~?”

 

_ Fuck _

 

“Just go order your 3-headed-salmon thing!”

 

Perona was already mostly through the wall when she called back in her high, shrieking voice.

 

“It's  _ 4  _ headed and  _ tuna _ and you’re  _ not cute _ !!”

 

Zoro considered making a comment on lack of cuteness all around but he didn't feel like yelling at the ceiling or saying the word ‘cute’ outloud. He glanced at Mihawk, still standing like a very intimidating statue. His cold yellow eyes seemed to be dissecting Zoro, flashing like the cracked black blade on his back. The sword would still hold up against any opponent other than Zoro, the swordsman the blade respected as it's victor. 

 

“So, did you, uh. Did you come for the food, too?”

 

Zoro winced. He felt awkward as hell whenever Mihawk did the stare thing he was doing. Said man narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. 

 

“Are you asking me because you’re newly chosen profession is that of a serving staff? Or will you perhaps be the one preparing my meal?”

 

Oh boy. Zoro knew this looked all kinds of bad, and normally he didn't give even half a shit, but there were a total 11 people in the entire world whose opinion he valued and 9 were nakama and 1 was dead. The 11th just so happened to be standing in front of him. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to think up some kind of excuse. 

 

“...Can't train on an empty stomach.”

 

Zoro desperately wished he had Perona’s powers right about now, because falling through the floorboards seemed like a really nice idea. Mihawk had his arms crossed, and a single finger twitched. For a guy like him that was basically like stomping his foot. 

 

“I was not aware this was the only place in the whole world where one could find nourishment. Clearly I have been deeply misinformed.”

 

The waves of sarcasm rolling off the older man could actually bruised someone’s skin with how strong they were. Zoro grimace but stood his ground. 

 

“What do my choices have to do with you? I won the title, I can choose to be the world greatest swordsman on a floating restaurant if I want.”

 

The black blade met Wado, equally black from haki. The air quivered a bit, and the spider-like cracks in Mihawk’s sword seemed to dance. 

 

“Your  _ choices  _ are a reflection of more than yourself. You represent the best, and therefore you must act the best. If you are serving washed up pirates and overly deserving rich with  _ food _ , perhaps the honor of the best was not for you to have.”

 

Zoro growled, pushing his weight into the unmoving blades. Mihawk didn't budge, and Zoro knew the man wouldn't unless Zoro actually went all out of the entire ship was destroyed. 

 

“I’m not some busboy at this place! And even if I was, I wouldn't be giving up my pride as a swordsman. There’s something I want here, and I’ll fight whatever way I can to get it.”

 

Immediately the black sword was placed behind Mihawk's back again, his stance neutral. He looked as if he hadn't just been threatening Zoro, like he had never moved an inch. Zoro resheathed Wado out of respect. 

 

“Ah.”

 

Zoro blinked. Mihawk looked at him pensively for a moment, then nodded to himself. Zoro felt apprehensive. 

 

“You desire the cook, and this had escaped my memory. I had forgotten you were at such an age when romance outweighs other importances.”

 

Zoro choked on air, face heating up because  _ fuck _ was it weird when  _ anything  _ Mihawk said referred to non-combative stuff. Also ‘you desire the cook’ coming from  _ anyone  _ was something to put Zoro on edge because  _ that's not public knowledge _ . 

 

“I had expected you to attain your partner a long time ago, however. If you are still on conquest for the same man, perhaps you are lacking in skill.”

 

“HEY-

 

“But you are young, and love is fickle, is it not? We cannot all be so fortunate as to attain a companion as reliable as out blades.”

 

“Could you not-

 

“Fear not, Roronoa. Men such as us are more than capable of overcoming such thing, even if you appear...slow. It is possible my presence was desired by fate, as you seem wholly incapable at the moment.”

 

“No, no.  _ no _ -

 

“I shall remain, and observe your crudeness in these areas of romantic notion. Now I shall join perona in the dining hall, as I am most curious about 4-headed fish.”

 

Mihawk passed Zoro, looking content in a serious type of way. Zoro stood, stuck between drawing his swords and running in the opposite direction. He kind of wanted to throw up, kind of wanted to stab himself. He stood in the hallway for a good while, before he gave up and decided to find his way to the deck, since at least there he could fling himself over the side of the boat. 

  
  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji took one look at Mihawk from the kitchen porthole immediately decided Zoro would be eating through a straw for the rest of his life.

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Sanji muttered curses as he escaped out a side door, halfway into lighting a cigarette. He saw Zeff raise a brow at the window, but other than that not give a crap. A few chefs looked torn between pissing themselves and throwing up. Because that’s just what Sanji needed right now.

Sanji had never actually  _ met _ Mihawk. He’d seen the man plenty of times, gotten  _ stared  _ at by him a few times, and hear a wide range of rumors good and bad. Zoro didn't seem to have anything nice to say about the man, but that didn't mean the mosshead didn't respect the hell out of the older swordsman, and Zoro was hardly known for compliments anyways. Sanji looked up at the crows nest, and figured it was empty and Zoro was somewhere either hiding from Mihawk or Sanji or both. Sanji ground his teeth in frustration. 

 

“Head-chef? Should we send a waiter to Hawk-Eye’s table?”

 

_ For fucks sake. _ Sanji turned around and blew out the rest of his smoke,

 

“Well unless someone can read his mind how the fuck else are we gonna figure out what the hell he wants to eat? Yes! Send a waiter!”

 

The current chef stood stiffly, looking back and forth between Sanji and something in the kitchen. Sanji sighed and pushed past him, noting most of his staff were  _ not working  _ and just looking out the window in curiosity. 

 

“Oi!”

 

The chefs scattered like field mice, running back to their stations at Sanji’s anger. Fuming, he grabbed the first waiter in reach.

 

“Has anyone even taken his drink order yet?”

 

The waiter quivered a bit, shaking his head no. Sanji could guess that all the other wait staff would be conveniently busy for quite a while, and Sanji shoved back a groan. He’d have to be Mihawk’s personal goddamn waiter for the day.

He sent a boiling glare around the room at his incompetent workers, grabbed a menu and opened the door, only to be shoved back by Zoro.

 

“Oh, hey, don't go out there.”

 

Sanji was so angry he had to tap out the fire starting on his foot. He slammed the menu in Zoro’s face.

 

“Oh how fucking  _ convenient  _ of you to show up! Are you  _ aware _ that your guest is disrupting my entire business!?”

 

Zoro lowered the menu, rubbing at his red nose. 

 

“He’s technically your guest since he wants to eat.”

 

“Well then MOVE so I can figure out  _ what  _ he wants to eat!”

 

“Just get a waiter for that!”

 

“It’s my restaurant, I’m doing it!”

 

Sanji slipped past Zoro, kicking him hard enough in the shin’s that the asshole nearly lost his balance. Sanji slammed the door behind him, pushing Zoro into the kitchens while Sanji straightened his tie. He could feel Mihawk’s eyes on him before he even looked, and despite everything Sanji had faced he still shivered in discomfort. He didn't actually know if he could defeat Mihawk in a fight or not, but he wasn't expecting a fight to break out between them. 

Sanji felt a scowl take over his face as a hand clamped around his arm. A very familiar tan hand with scars and probably 9 million germs. 

 

“Let  _ go _ shithead!”

 

“I’ll take his order, ok?”

 

“Can you even write?”

 

Sanji turned back to Mihawk, who had his eyes uncomfortably focused on Sanji, like he had zeroed in on something he found particularly fascinating. 

 

“Just give me the damn menu, cook. He’s  _ my _ -

 

Sanji shoved the menu in his face again, done with the conversation. 

 

“Fine! Just make him point to the thing he wants, and then show me what that was and that way you don't have to flaunt your eliteracy. Now mo-

 

Sanji noticed a flash of pink, and then Mihawk was very much not sitting alone anymore. Since Sanji remembered the name of every single woman he had ever met in his entire life, he had no trouble recalling Perona’s to mind. She was saying something to Mihawk, who said something back, still looking at Sanji (which was still creepy) and then  _ Perona  _ was looking at Sanji (not creepy) and giving the blonde a little wave.

Sanji grabbed the menu back from Zoro and snapped his hand out of the unsuspecting brute’s hold, twirling around him to quickly to be stopped. 

 

“Perona-chaaan!! How nice to graced by your presence!”

 

Perona gave him a smirk, and somewhere behind him Sanji heard Zoro squawk.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just don't sniff me again.”

 

Sanji grimace. Perona had seen a very dark side to Sanji which he swore he would  _ never  _ repeat. 

 

“Ah, well, shall I give you a minute to look over the menu? Do you having something in mind to drink?”

 

Sanji glanced at Mihawk again, noting the man didn't seem to have so much as blinked. 

 

“The house white and the tuna, and the same for him, thanks.”

 

“I prefer a red, thank you.”

 

Sanji nodded. He couldn't help but think it funny that the first words uttered by the man to Sanji were about alcohol. How fitting for someone associated with the moss head. 

 

“I want the red too.”

 

Sanji hit Zoro in the face with the menu for a third time.

 

“Get back to the crows nest!”

 

“I’m hungry.”

 

Sanji bit his lip. He couldn't say no to that, and Zoro knew he couldn't say no to that, but still fuck him. 

 

“You can have  _ food _ then. No wine!”

 

Zoro plopped down on Mihawk's right side, crossing his arms. Mihawk was  _ still _ staring at Sanji. 

 

“Is there anything else I can get you, Perona dear? Uh, Mihawk...san?”

 

Perona shook her head no, looking quite amused. Mihawk just...stared. Great, so that was a thing he did. Zoro looked all kinds of uncomfortable and pissy, which served the bastard right. Sanji turned and made his way to the kitchens, figuring if anyone was going to make this meal it damn well better be him. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  
  


“I forgot he was such an idiot around women. Still, he’s cute.”

 

Perona sipped her wine and played with a napkin folded like a bird. She was probably thrilled to be getting the princess treatment from the cook. Mihawk sipped his wine as well, probably appreciating it since Sanji always knew how to choose good wine for certain guests. Zoro  _ didn't  _ sip his wine because he didn't get any, which was bullshit. 

 

“Great. Well, you saw him, now you can leave.”

 

Perona tutted at Zoro, languidly taking another sip, fully knowing it was rubbing in the fact that Sanji would give her any amount any alcohol. 

 

“We haven't eaten yet, so shut up. Also it's fun to play with him, so who knows? Maybe I’ll make him into my next servant.”

 

Perona laughed outright at the horrified expression of Zoro’s face. Mihawk put his glass down, swatting away Zoro’s had as he reached for it. 

 

“I suppose he has a graceful quality. He is a skilled hand-to-hand combatant, yes?”

 

Zoro knew for a fact that Mihawk had seen Sanji fight before. He also knew the look in Mihawk’s eye, the kind associated with fighting. 

 

“He doesn't have any interest in swords, so don't start anything.”

 

“But as a chef, surely he would know how to properly wield a knife.”

 

Zoro bit the inside of his cheek. He had a  _ lot _ of fantasies in his head involving Sanji and his use of knives. 

 

“He won't  _ fight _ with them. Look, you talked, isn't that all you wanted? Also stop  _ staring  _ at him like that!”

 

Mihawk continued to stare at the kitchen door against Zoro’s wishes. Perona giggled and Zoro growled, nearly jumping in his seat as the kitchen door opened and Sanji walked out, hands heavy with cuisine. 

 

“Ok, ok, just accept the food and don't-

 

“Your last name is Vinsmoke, is it not?”

 

Zoro felt his face pale and Sanji nearly dropped the food he was placing before Perona. The cook had bloodless cheeks, and wide, unhappy eyes. Perona shot Mihawk a  _ look _ . 

 

“It is not. I am not associated with them, and my wanted poster clearly reads ‘Sanji Black-leg’.”

 

Which was all true. Sanji had even cornered a marine photographer and Zoro was pretty sure Robin had tortured the man a little to get his official wanted poster changed way back. The name Vinsmoke hadn't been seen anywhere near Sanji for years. 

 

“But of your birth-

 

“I was raised by a former pirate and learned my trade from him. Anything before that is meaningless, if not private. I’m sure you understand,  _ former  _ greatest swordsman.”

 

There was a cold silence as Perona and Zoro caught each other’s eyes, looking cautiously between the two men. Sanji was staring down Mihawk with a challenging glint to his eyes, and Mihawk was staring back. Zoro caressed the hilts of his swords. 

 

“Very well. I shall accept your word.”

 

Perona and Zoro breathed a sigh of relief. Sanji nodded, seeming less rumpled, placing the dishes on the table and moving to refill the wine glasses. 

 

“Do you hold any interest in men sexualy?”

 

Sanji spilled the wine as Perona started coughing violently. Everyone’s face at the table matched the liquid in Mihawk’s glass, save Mihawk. Zoro jumped to his feet. 

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

 

Zoro glared down at Mihawk who picked up a fork, uncaring to Zoro’s anger. 

 

“It’s a rather obvious issue to address if the answer is no-

 

Zoro and Sanji moved to speak at the same time.

 

“It’s none of your damn business!!”

“I already know he has sex with men!”

 

Perona slammed her face into her hands, and Mihawk raised a brow at both of them. Sanji whirled on Zoro, face beet red and fuming. Zoro recoiled, horrified at what he had just said. 

 

“WHY WOULD YOU TELL HIM THAT!??”

 

“I’m didn't mean to!”

 

Sanji threw a towel on the table, still hastily wiping up the spilled wine. Zoro moved to help, undoing his sash and using it as a rag.

 

“Stop that!! It's not sanitary you fucking idiot! God-FUCK! Why do you always have to make a mess of  _ everything _ !?

 

“I’m sor-

 

“No, fuck you! Fuck you all the way back to the  _ fucking  _ east blue, Zoro! Just sit down and eat with your weird as shit sword master and continue to talk about deeply sensitive and  _ personal _ things about me!!”

 

Sanji slammed the wet towel down on the table, and Zoro flinched. He stormed off to the kitchens, and Perona peeked through her fingers while Mihawk just sat there, tasting the fish. Zoro looked at Mihawk, face dark with rage, but then he looked at the kitchen door. He seemed to make up his mind, and instead of trying to kill Mihawk, he followed Sanji. 

 

Perona watched him go before hitting her palms to the table, glaring at Mihawk. 

 

“What the HELL was that?”

 

Mihawk took another bite of fish, glancing at her.

 

“I believe the term is ‘get the ball rolling’, so to speak.”

 

Perona scoffed, displeased, she took a bite from her own plate and nearly melted at the delicate taste. 

 

“Men are so stupid. And Zoro’s gonna kill you for this, you know.”

 

Mihawk gave a bark of laughter.

 

“If he truly believes himself capable, I welcome it.”

 

Perona just rolled her eyes. Men were so  _ dumb _ . 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


“Cook-

 

“Fuck  _ off _ !”

 

Sanji stormed through the kitchen, chefs turning in worry. Zeff shot a concerned glare at the two, and Sanji ignored them all. He was so angry he could barely see straight. He was so,  _ so angry _ . 

He was also hurt. He felt wounded like a bird with broken wings, and that sting was latching onto him and wouldn't go. Zoro must have told Mihawk about the Vinsmoke at some point, and then he had to go and  _ humiliate  _ Sanji in front of a man so powerful and famous it was on par with Luffy! 

 

“Coo-

 

Sanji whirled on Zoro, a few heads taller than him thanks to the stair he was on. He felt like their was acid in his throat.

 

“Don't you  _ dare  _ fucking follow me. Get the hell away from me,  _ right now _ !”

 

Zoro held up his hands, trying to look placating. 

 

“I can't. I don't want to leave things like this.”

 

Sanji seethed. He could almost taste blood, and he was sure he would break all of his teeth if he didn't let up on the pressure in his jaw. 

 

“Well then why don't  _ you  _ leave! Why don't you get get the fuck off my boat, Zoro! Or was making me the perfect fool in front of Hawk-Eyes not enough!? Do you also want to go up to Zeff and tell him about all the times I almost died because I was just  _ too fucking weak _ ?? You wanna publish an article about how Sanji Black-Leg almost got married to a girl who thought he was a piece of shit- or, no! Even better! Just tell everyone about how I was actually tortured when I was 8 because I’m such a meaningless sack of shit!!”

 

Sanji took a breath and hardened his glare at Zoro. The man stood, eye wide and pleading. He looked genuinely hurt by those words, but that wasn't enough for Sanji. He didn't care. 

 

“Or do you just want to hang around this place pretending you’re needed? I don't need some stupid asshole who’s only skill is slicing up things! I’m doing something big here, I’m fucking-I’m changing the world! What the _fuck_ are you doing, Roronoa Zoro!?”

 

Sanji panted, out of breath. His hands were balled up into white knuckle fists, shaking. He stared hard at Zoro, daring him to argue. Zoro stared back, hands still extended, like he was afraid Sanji would fall. Like he was begging. Sanji moved to turn, his anger cooling down, making him feel numb. He was beginning to feel empty. 

 

“You  _ knew  _ how much the Vinsmoke hurt me. You- You’re my  _ nakama _ . You know how fucking sensitive I am to that! What gives you the right to talk about that to someone else? Or for fucks sake, my  _ bed mates _ for that matter?”

 

Zoro took a step towards him, and Sanji held up his hand, stopping him. 

Yes, he had feelings for Zoro-  _ strong  _ feelings, growing by day with every breath, but that made the hurt that much more biting. Maybe it wouldn't have cut him so deep a time ago, but now it was a breach of trust from someone so important to him. So  _ vital  _ to his life now. 

 

“Just, Zoro- I just. How could you do that to me? Do you hate me  _ that  _ much?”

 

Sanji nearly lost his balance as large arms snaked around him, pulling him into a crushing embrace. His face was held to Zoro’s shoulder, his arms trapped at his side. He felt the anger well up in him again, harsh and burning. 

 

“Don't you fuckin-

 

“ _ Sanji. _ ”

 

Sanji stilled, Zoro’s voice right by his ear. His name said so softly from Zoro’s lips, sounding so new and strange. Zoro’s voice wavered gently, hung and bound by heavy emotion. 

 

“Sanji, my  _ nakama _ ,  _ please _ . Please know that I have never- _ could  _ never hate you. I respect you so much, I  _ admire _ you. I-Sanji I care about you, so much. You are so important to me, to my life, to my past and future. I didn't mean for any of that to happen and I  _ swear _ to you, I never told Mihawk anything about you and the Vinsmoke. I would  _ never _ .”

 

Sanji hated the way his eyes stung. He hated how warm Zoro felt, how comfortably it was to be held by him, contradicting their very nature towards each other. He had been held like this, by this man, in a way he probably wasn't supposed to remember and the way that fit together was  _ familiar _ . He knew Zoro wouldn't lie to him about this. Zoro didn't lie to him. It all just hurt so  _ much _ .

 

“But he  _ knew _ -

 

“Only what was written on a wanted poster years ago. Just a name, nothing else.”

 

Sanji bit his lower lip. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this vulnerable. He pushed his face into Zoro’s shoulder, and felt the arms around him relax. 

 

“You wanna know all the things I told Mihawk about you?”

 

Sanji swallowed, and nodded against Zoro’s neck. Zoro’s hands seemed to burn into Sanji’s back. 

 

“I complained about the food at his castle for 2 years straight. I was always saying our crew’s shitty cook could make a decent meal from fish bones, could have made the best fucking food from garbage. I used to make Perona jealous because I’d talk about all the fancy snacks you’d make us. Sometimes I would get bored and tell her about how you always wore suits even when it was hot as hell, and I’d try to work out how you did that with her.”

 

Sanji gave a soft laugh to Zoro’s skin. His heart clenched at the images Zoro painted.

 

“I told mihawk about how if was you who was always training me.  _ You  _ made me better, made me  _ good enough _ . I talked and talked about all the ways you could kick a man’s face in until the old guy got fed up with it and threw knives at me.”

 

Sanji moved his hands under the relaxed grip of Zoro’s arms. He gripped the back of Zoro’s shirt, hand clenching in the fabric and nails biting Zoro’s skin. Zoro’s hands flexed against the muscles on Sanji’s back, grounding him. 

 

“After the one piece I visited Mihawk, and I beat him, cook. And we were still bleeding all over the place when he invited me inside for a meal, and I said nah, I want the cook to cook for me. I had just become the world’s best, so I figured, I’d eat the best.”

 

Sanji pretended his hands weren’t shaking. He pretended his eyes weren’t leaking salt water on Zoro’s shirt. He found himself aching with how much his heart was bursting. 

 

“I never told him anything about the Vinsmoke ‘cuz those guys don't mean shit to me. They’re not part of you, not connected to you, and sure as hell not as strong as you. And I am so sorry all that shit happened to you, but you are so much more than what they did to you, cook. You’ve proved that.”

 

Sanji pushed his face further into the gap between Zoro’s bones. He wanted to bury himself in the man’s skin, hide from the world and seek the solace of all those words. He couldn't get over how secure he felt in the embrace. He couldn't get over how much he had wanted this Zoro, holding him.

 

“I’m- I didn't mean. I’m sorry, about-that stuff I said. Didn’t mean any of it.”

 

Zoro just stroked his back gently, pressing his nose into Sanji’s shoulder. 

 

“S’ok. I didn't mean to tell him about-uh. Y’know.”

 

Sanji laughed, using one hand to reach up and scrub at his face. 

 

“Whatever, as long as he didn't ask ‘cuz  _ he  _ was interested.”

 

Zoro gave a half-hearted growl, making Sanji smile. 

 

“I’d kill the bastard if he was, trust me.”

 

Sanji kept smiling, still comfortable in Zoro’s arms. He was used to getting hugged by Luffy, or Chopper, and sometimes Franky and Usopp. Brook when he got emotional. The ladies if he was particularly lucky, but not Zoro. Hugging Zoro was new and something sacred and right and warm. Like the final piece to the puzzle. 

 

“I really do like having you around, Zoro.”

 

He felt Zoro tense, then slowly relax. 

 

“I-cook. I’m, same. Me too.”

 

They stayed like that for a while, before Sanji started to feel awkward and itchy from crying. He untangled himself from Zoro’s arms and rubbed at his face, suddenly embarrassed. Zoro scratched his neck awkwardly. It made something unfold in Sanji’s chest like butterfly wings. 

 

“You’re still a moron though, that part was true.”

 

Zoro just grinned, all white teeth and crinkled eyes. His cheeks were a bit pink, and in the quiet of Sanji’s mind, he thought the he had never seen anything quite as beautiful. 

 

-

 

Down the steps at the corner of the hallway, Zeff and Mihawk shared a bemused look before slipping away. Getting caught eavesdropping would lead to no good, and Zeff figured the new guest deserved some proper wine.  

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably one of the longest chapters but damn did I need to get mihawk in there! I've had this chapter waiting for a while and i've been dying to publish it because if theres one thing I love, its the Mihawk-Perona-Zoro family. dysfunctional dads all the way. Plus I figured Zeff would be getting a bit lonely being the only frustrated old father figure around, so why not give him a pal who also wants his son to get laid and all that.   
> I promise I've read all the comments, and I'll get to responding to them I SWEAR but until then thank you all so much and I'm gonna go sleep for 8 years


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little talks all around and no, Sanji, Mihawk and Zeff are not doing the horizontal tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry I havnt posted recently, work has been absolute hell on earth and i've only had time to cook and drag myself into bed! Now that I finally have more chapters written ill be able to update more consistently and sooner!!! again thank you everyone for your comments, i promise i read them even if i dont respond like a total asshole  
> anyways here are two idiots being idiots as usual

 

-oOo-

 

Sanji wanted to tell Zoro about the storm night.

In his head he’d been referring to it as such, strictly keeping his mind away from the words _sex_ and _drunk_ and _talented hands_. At this point, Sanji knew he should have told Zoro a while ago, everything else be damned. Zoro didn't deserve to have things kept from him, and if nothing else, when all was said and done, Sanji didn't want to be the nakama that hid himself from nakama. Or a friend that hid things from his friend.

He was pretty sure he was going to get punched in the face. After all, hiding something like this was basically the same as lying, and he _had_ lied when he said he didn't remember. Zoro had asked him a simple question that probably could have been answered with a simple answer (with a complicated explanation) and Sanji had chosen to nicely tuck it away and fuck that option up.

Of course the newer and possibly even bigger problem now sat in the middle table of the dining area, eating peacefully. With _Zeff_.

 

“Where did he even _sleep_ last night? Isn't his boat just a raft with candles?”

 

Sanji didn't expect an answer and he wasn't given one anyways. Mihawk continued eating and chatting with Zeff, like it wasn't one of the weirdest things the grandline had thrown up on Sanji’s shoes. Zoro had been more than his usual level of unhelpful, going after the older swordsman the moment he had made sure Sanji wasn't going to kill him for revealing shit. Sanji had had to break up the fight himself, dragging Zoro away before the entire ship fell apart, and the banisters were torn to shreds to all the chef’s teary eyes. Zoro was being awkward enough in the morning and getting lost while chasing Perona around the ship, and the cook suspected that she was doing it on purpose, which he couldn't fault her for, amusing as it was and lovely as she continued to be. But that left Sanji to his inner dilemma over the mosshead and the very frustrating and worrying issue of Mihawk. Talking to _Zeff_ . And not _leaving_.

 

“He might have slept in Zeff-san’s cabin, head-chef.”

 

Sanji turned stiffly to the chef speaking. This was the second time that the cook had heard such words, and he had absolutely no proof to validate or disarm the comment, since he had retired early that night to pass out from the emotional exhaustion. Whether he had passed out in Zoro’s arms or not was entirely no one’s business and _purely_ accidental. The word that a certain previous greatest swordsman and the infamous red-leg Zeff had stayed up late with expensive bottles of wine though, was now the more important issue in Sanji’s head.

 

“The old man would rather cut off his other leg than share his space. Let alone with some crazed swordsman who doesn't blink.”

 

Of this, Sanji was pretty damn confident, and he hoped to god his voice portrayed that confidence. There was something horribly, _horribly_ disturbing about Zeff and this sword swinging psychopath getting close, and so Sanji would eat his shoes before he let them get too chummy. He figured he just had to keep an eye on them, yell at Zeff about things that would rile him up and send him back to the kitchen or after Sanji, and continue very strongly ignoring Mihawk. If there was one thing Sanji _didn't_ want to do, it was actually talk to the man who had questioned him about his past bullshit family and then his sexuality. He was keenly aware that the old man was still staring at him from time to time, unblinking and viciously creepy.

Sanji straightened as Zeff rose from his chair, making his way back to the kitchens. Sanji paced by the door like an anxious cat, ready to pounce on the old man. Zeff swung open the door and barely spared a look at Sanji, and made his way to his station. The head chef fumed.

 

“Oh, finally joining us in the kitchens today?”

Zeff grunted at Sanji, giving him a side eye. The younger man huffed and walked over to the older.

 

“What? Nothing to say? What happened to your anti-socializing rule?”

 

“First of all, I’m retired, eggplant. I’ll cook when I damn well please. Second, if there’s good company to be around, I’ll be around ‘em.”

 

Zeff went back to work, apparently preparing oysters. Sanji crossed his arms, irritated as hell.

 

“Since when is ‘good company’ a _physco_ who fuckes up the banisters and probably makes out with his sword in private?”

 

“The moss-brain did most of that damage, and I’ll decide whos good company for myself. You’re head-chef now, so stop mucking around by the windows watching old men talk and do the job properly.”

 

Sanji bit his lip, scowling as he stomped to his station where he _would_ be working as a proper head chef, thank you very much. What did he care if Zeff was getting cozy with a weird asshole? It wasn't like Sanji was _worried_ or anything. Sure Mihawk could probably slice the whole boat in two and kill everyone quite horribly, but would he do it? Well, probably not. But Sanji just didn't _know_ . He had absolutely no read on the creepy old man other than his abrasiveness and fondness for drink and swords. The cook was still rattled from the older swordsman asking him about his _sexuality_ of all things.

The sound of the door closing startled him, and Sanji noted that Zeff had left with the oysters, off to enjoy them with the unblinking weirdo. Sanji twitched, fighting the urge to run out and flip the table. He didn't really have a good reason for why he disliked the idea of Zeff getting close to the hawk-psycho, and he felt like some 5-year-old having a tantrum. He was a grown ass man, and so was Zeff. They could handle their own shit.

The door burst open and then slammed shut as Zoro crouched down below the porthole, apparently hiding from something. Sanji threw some loose salt at him.

 

“Don't go around slamming the door!”

 

Zoro shook his head, dispelling some of the salt and glaring at Sanji.

 

“Shut up, Perona got her ghosts out again-

 

“NO, no get _out_! I swear to fuck if you led those things in here again-

 

A white ghost drifted through the floor, circling Zoro who swung his sword uselessly. Sanji backed away immediately, chefs around him doing the same. The kitchen had experienced a very unfortunate breakfast shift when a ghost on the lookout for Zoro had started passing through the workers. Sanji had blessedly avoided them, but he had to scrape up depressed waiters and chefs from the floor for what felt like hours.

The ghost passed through Zoro effortlessly, and immediately the swordsman was on the ground, head hanging sadly.

 

“Nothing is worth living for….”

 

Sanji through a pot lid at his head.

 

“Think of your precious booze, marimo! Get the hell up and out of the kitchen!”

 

The pot lid bounced off Zoro’s head, and nearby a saucier fell to his knees, suddenly chanting his own inability. Sanji cursed. A pink head suddenly jumped from the floorboards, Perona flipping in the air to Zoro’s side.

 

“Found you! I told you I wasn't done with the tour.”

 

The ghost disappeared and Sanji breathed a sigh of relief. Zoro was regaining his self again, glaring daggers at Perona as he got off his knees.

 

“I’m not one of your zombie toy things!”

 

Perona pouted, and Sanji would have comforted her but he was much more interested in her leaving at the moment. He gently patted his saucier on the shoulder as the said man continued to wallow in the affects of the negative ghost.

 

“You’re no fun. I’m bored to death over here and Mihawk just wants to chat with the mustache guy, so the least you could do is entertain me.”

 

“It’s not like it's my job to entertain you!”

 

Sanji bristled, pointing a finger at Zoro.

 

“You’re _job_ is to keep the peace on this damn boat so go _do it_!”

 

Zoro glared at him.

 

“Since when is that my job!?”

 

“Since I just decided it was! Now go make Mihawk leave!”

 

“You think I haven't tried making him leave yet!?”

 

Both men suddenly collapsed, ghosts peacefully swirling around them. Sanji felt every bit of happiness and hope fall to the back of his feet as the imitation dread filled him.

 

“Everything is one big failure…”

 

He didn't really think that, but he also _really_ thought that. He fought against it, easing back into himself little by little. He hated devil fruits that messed with his head the most, since the effects always left uncomfortable aftershocks.

Zoro got up first, teeth gritted and he made his way to the door, swords out.

 

“I’m going to find your body and throw it in the ocean, you hear me ghost-girl?”

 

Sanji watched him go, his saucier having recovered himself enough to pat Sanji on the back in turn now. He got up, but the hopelessness of dealing with Zoro’s guests didn't leave.

 

-oOo-

 

Zoro couldn't find Perona’s sleeping body no matter where he looked, and even when he did think he was getting close a swarm of ghosts got to him first. He’d been going back and forth between chasing her and being chased by ghosts and it was just as shitty as it had been all those years ago stuck in Mihawk’s castle.

Mihawk himself was still chatting with Zeff like they had become best friends overnight. It was disturbing as hell, and considering all the looks that had been sent his way by both older men, nothing good was coming out of their conversation. Zoro couldn't blame Sanji for being so on edge considering how much of an asshole Mihawk was being, and to top it off there was no way Sanji was enjoying the idea of his father figure getting along so well with said asshole. Perona was just icing on the cake, adding a level of chaos to the boat that was new and entirely terrible.

There was absolutly no time or space for a private conversation with the cook like this. All Zoro had wanted to do for a while was come clean to Sanji, tell him they had sex, talk it out, and go from there, but no. God forbid something go smoothly for once in his fucking life. The worst part was that Sanji clearly wanted Mihawk gone just as much as Zoro, but Zoro already knew there was nothing anyone could do to make the man leave unless he wanted to. Years of knowing the swordsman had taught him that there was hardly anything that fazed Mihawk, and anything he found annoying would just be stabbed a lot. He didn't have any buisness to deal with, he had all the food and wine he could want where he was, and aparently he also had a new friend.

Zoro sighed. He figured the most direct way would have to do for now, so he approached the two men warrily. Zeff and Mihawk were both silently watching him, and Zoro didn't think he’d ever been so uncomfortable in his entire life. Still, he turned to Mihawk and met his gaze.

 

“When the hell are you leaving?”

 

Mihawk stared at him for a good while, creepy as always.

 

“When do you believe your romantic endeavors will be successful?”

 

Zoro groaned, rubbing his hand over his face hard. He looked over at Zeff.

 

“Why are you even sitting with him? You know he insulted the cook, right?”

 

Zeff grunted, mustache twitching.

 

“Common goals bring people together. How goes those ‘romantic endeavors’ then?”

 

Zoro stared hard at Zeff, and then Mihawk, and then back at Zeff. He wasn't sure if he was hearing right.

 

“Are you two just...sitting here and talking about me and the cook? Like bored old men?”

 

Zeff took a sip of tea.

 

“Boy, we _are_ bored old men. Now when are you gonna tell eggplant you’re in love with him?”

 

Zoro flushed, glancing at Mihawk, who was pouring himself tea. Zoro turned back to Zeff, ears burning.

 

“It’s not exactly something you bring up over breakfast, ok?”

 

“You’ve been on this damn boat for months now, algae head.”

 

Zoro crossed his arms, face still heating up.

 

“Well it sure would be easier if _this_ asshole was gone, along with the damn ghosts.”

 

“That sounds disappointingly familiar to an excuse, Roronoa.”

 

Zoro attempted to grab the tea cup from Mihawk, not quite quick enough. He laid his palms flat on the table, glaring at the old swordsman.

 

“Don't think for a second that I forgot the shit you pulled the other day. When you die I’m going to drink all your crap-wine and give the castle to the gorillas.”

 

Mihawk continued to drink his tea, only glancing at Zoro for a moment.

 

“Quite confident of you to assume you’ll outlive me.”

 

Zoro grinded his teeth, hands balling up into white knuckled fists. He turned back to Zeff, deciding to wholy ignore his old master.

 

“Look, the cook is high strung enough already, and I’m trying to make it easier on him. If any more shit happens on this boat he’ll probably burst a vein, so if _he_ won't leave-

 

Zoro pointed at Mihawk.

 

“-Then can you at least keep him away from the cook? Perona’s bound to get bored and leave soon, but I don't need some creepy asshole watching Sanji like some 200 year old statue.”

 

Zeff looked at him, arms crossed before unfolding himself to drink his tea again. Zoro narrowed his eye, feeling impatient. Zeff heaved out a long sigh, sounding like a motor dying out.

 

“Fine, I hear ‘ya. Now get your ass out of my sight and go romance the crap-kid.”

 

That was all Zoro needed to hear and a little more than he wanted to. He hightailed it out of the older men’s company, hell bent on smoothing the ruffled feathers of Sanji. He had a lot of work to do and a lot to sort out.

 

-oOo-

  


Zeff watched the green haired brute stomp off. He took a sip of his tea, raising an eyebrow as the young swordsman took an uncalled for left turn, then another, and then somehow entered the door leading to the storage. It wasn't too far away from the kitchen door, and yet-

 

“I still can't tell if he’s completely hopeless or just needs more practice. I’ve got half a mind to put him in a circular room and see what happens.”

 

Across from him, Mihawk nodded, eyes on the door Zoro had just slammed. _Bad manners still_ , Zeff thought. Eggplant would have to train his green dog better.

 

“I'm afraid it’s best to give up any hope regarding his inner compass. Years living on my limited property and still he wanders the hallways as if he were in a maze.”

 

Zeff grunted. He’d watched in amazement as the moron had circled the entire ship twice before getting to a bathroom on more than one occasion. Eggplant seemed overly used to it, which didn't point well for any possibility of improvement on the directionlessness of the man. Zeff looked over at the old swordsman.

He’d been talking with Hawk-Eyes for a while, finding his company a nice change in pace (read; quiet, controlled, not a stupid teenager in love) and learning a lot about the Roronoa fellow. The two men had been discussing tactics for interfearing with the troubled love birds, but the agreed upon move for now was to sit and wait. Apparently, Roronoa could suprise a man.

 

“Did he really not shut up about eggplant the whole two years with you?”

 

He started pouring them both more tea, shaking away the slight discomfort of the bright yellow eyes boring into him.

 

“It was a most unpleasant experience. He moped incessantly like a child who’s favorite toy had been taken away. It was very dull.”

 

Mihawk accepted the refill of tea, turning back to the deck as a back door slammed somewhere, and the mosshead stomped his way past the kitchen, backtracked, and walking inside. Shouting immediately followed.

 

“But what did he say exactly? Anything worth noting?”

 

Zeff tapped his fingers on the table as Mihawk considered. A few pieces of cutlery flew out a porthole and the sound of something breaking could be heard.

 

“At first it was all about the food. I was offended myself at first, having gone to lengths to prepare food for unwanted guests, one whom made it very clear my skills were not up to par with another. I quickly realized it was not deliberate, rather he was voicing what he yearned for in a coded way. That, and I came to realize that no one would truly be to Black-leg’s culinary level.”

 

Zeff nodded again, pleased. Another reason why he could appreciate the company he was in; Hawk-Eyes was blunt, knew his wine and knew his food. A number of waiters and a few chefs began scrambling out of the kitchen, and Zeff guessed the eggplant and moss fight was gaining force. Mihawk continued easily.

 

“As time passed and I came to know Rorona’s limits, he gave away that he had a partner of sorts. From what he said at the time, I had always assumed it had been an established romance. I didn't learn until late that he felt his feelings unreciprocated, and again this was more given away by action and reference than admittance.”

 

Zeff looked away from the kitchen door, interest piqued.

 

“What did he give away then?”

 

A loud thud practically shook the whole ship, and a few more chefs scurried out to the deck for their own safety. Zeff looked expectantly at Mihawk.

 

“If I had to choose what gave it away...He talked about how he had to return to his nakama, but he specified returning to ‘the cook’. It was often ‘they need me’ and ‘they could be hurt’, but just as often it was ‘what happened to the cook’. It was the desire so clearly in his voice, the way he _needed_ to know the fate of ‘the cook’.”

 

Zeff didn't have anything to say to that. He turned away from Mihawk to watch the scene unfolding before them, along with the waitstaff and some patrons. Roronoa went flying out of the kitchen door, landing on his feet before charging back in. the shouting rose and fell in volume, and after a minute died down. A few of the braver chefs ventured back to the kitchen, followed by the others soon after.

 

“Well if nothing else, this whole thing will keep ‘em in shape.”

 

Mihawk nodded beside him, eyes intently trained on the shadows coming from the porthole window like the answers from god themselves would be written there.

  


-oOo-

  


Sanji wanted nothing more than to take a hot bath and go to bed, but he refused to take his eyes off of Mihawk.

There were only a few yawning chefs left to the evening, guests long gone and even Zeff was tucked up into bed, but Sanji would _not rest_ until he had unravled the mystery that was _where the fuck does Mihawk sleep_.

 

“Why do you even _care_?”

 

Sanji didn't bother looking away from the porthole to kick out at Zoro. He missed, but got an annoyed grunt. Sanji bit into the soiled end of his unlit cigarette and crossed his arms.

 

“This would be easier if you could tell me if he even slept at all. You lived with the shitty old guy for years and you don't even know.”

 

Zoro grumbled and Sanji turned sharply at the sound of a pot lid being fiddled with. He glared at the mosshead and swiped the copper lid from his hand. Zoro glared right back.

 

“He disapeared all the fucking time, ok? Maybe it was to sleep, maybe it was to kill something, I don't know! What does it matter?”

 

Sanji slapped at Zoro’s hand as it reached for a cheese grater. He didn't feel like disinfecting the entire kitchen all over again just because the green child was bored.

 

“If he’s going off to sleep in _Zeff’s_ room I want to know!”

 

Zoro froze with his hand reaching at a whisk, staring at Sanji like the cook had just declared his newfound love for bugs. Slowly his hand returned to his side, and Sanji impatiently returned to watching Mihawk out the porthole.

 

“...You’re freaking out-

 

“Don't say it.”

 

“-because you think-

 

“Do _not_ say it, marimo.”

 

“-Mihawk is fooling around with Ze-

 

Sanji pushed the copper pot lid into Zoro’s face, hard.

 

“Do _not_. Say. It.”

 

Silence from the pot lid followed, and Sanji slowly removed it from the swordsman’s face. He threw it in the sink to wash later.

He turned around again, anxiously looking at the old war lord. So maybe, _maybe_ he was a little paranoid about Mihawk and Zeff getting so freindly so quickly. But it was so fucking weird for Zeff to just cozy on up to another person like that! And Mihawk _had_ asked Sanji that invasive question regarding his sexual interest, so who god damn knows, maybe the shithead had been looking for someone. Every single aspect to the clusterfuck of thoughts in Sanji’s head was overly disturbed by the idea of _Mihawk_ and _Zeff_ as anything at all.

 

“Holy shit, Mihawk isn't fooling around with your dad, cook.”

 

Sanji kicked out again, missing and leaving a hole in a counter. He cursed, throwing the cheese grater at Zoro’s head.

 

“DON'T _SAY_ IT LIKE THAT!”

 

Zoro ducked under the flying cheese grater.

 

“Well they’re not! Hell, is _that_ why you’re so tense? Seriously?”

 

“Well how would you feel if some weird old guy just appeared out of nowhere and started getting all close with Mihawk!?”

 

Sanji thought that was a decent comparison. Zoro, like most of the Straw Hats, didn't get the whole ‘dad’ thing that much and didn't give two shits about it. But surely Zoro cared if-

 

“Why would I care if some weird old guy wanted to get with some other weird old guy?”

 

Sanji thumped his head on the wall, letting out a sad little noise. He felt like curling up in a ball and calling his glorious Nami-san just to hear someone with a brain speak. He rolled his head and eyes Zoro despairingly.

 

“He’s your mentor or some shit, isn't he?”

 

Zoro gave him a blank look.

“I mean, maybe. Kinda? Not really though.”

 

Sanji slid down the wall, exhausted. He didn't have the energy for this kind of conversation, and everyday recently had been feeling like a massive experience of utter shit chaos. He folded into himself a bit, taking the useless cigarette from the corner of his mouth and tossing it.

Zoro walked over to him, loud in the silent kitchen with his heavy boots. He squatted, and reached out a hand to poke at Sanji’s knee.

 

“Ok, look. How about we go to bed now, and tomorrow I deal with...whatever you think is going on with those two.”

 

Sanji huffed, his breath throwing his hair in odd directions. He felt like a mess.

 

“Sure, whatever.”

 

He pushed himself up, drained. He felt like he hadn't slept in years for some reason, and when he looked over at Zoro he wanted almost nothing more than to feel the comfort of his presence again. There was the all-encompassing security of being held by Zoro that Sanji still wanted to deny he wanted, and he was struggling to deny it now. It was strange, to realize that what he had been happy with before wasn't enough to make him happy now. The desire for more and more and more, it was destructive.

Still, he left those thoughts behind and turned the light of as he and Zoro exited the kitchen. He led them to their room and changed quietly while Zoro inspected his swords and took off his jacket. Boots hit the floor like a familiar tune as the bed dipped, both men settling into the bed. Then it was just the quiet and dark and Sanji didn't know how to close his eyes.

 

“Stop thinking so much.”

 

Zoro’s deep voice nearly made him jump, and he turned over, looking at his near-black outline. In the dark he was just a shape taking up space.

 

“Shut up and go to sleep, mosshead.”

 

“I could if you’d stop freaking out.”

 

“I’m not _freaking out_.”

 

A sudden touch to his chest had him flinching. It was only Zoro, of course, but unexpected. His hand rested on the center of his chest, forefingers almost brushing his neck.

 

“Just breathe out slowly, ok?”

 

He couldn't. He tried, with full breaths and long exhales, counting off the seconds in his head. The hand on his chest felt too heavy, too knowing as it felt his pulse. It felt like Zoro would be able to unravel Sanji right there, with his fingers deep in the threads.

 

“Just relax, cook.”

 

“I can't just- it's not a _switch_ , ok?”

 

Sanji rolled over fully, facing the shape that was Zoro. Little things were visible in the dark, like the slope of his nose and the slight reflection of his eye. The hand on his chest fell away. He fumbled with the blanket, moving his hand up and hesitantly placing his palm flat over Zoro’s heart. He felt the slight tense of the other man, and then the release of breath. The skin was warm, with the bumpy ridges of scar tissue crossing under his touch. The beat, muted through his fingers, centered Sanji wholly.

 

“This ok?”

 

He felt the movement of Zoro nod in response, and then the feather light touch of fingers to his wrist, like a blessing. He didn't count the beats as they came, he just breathed. The most pure reminder that the person beside him was alive and present. That Zoro was here for him, willingly.

 

“Thanks.”

 

The word came out as barely a whisper, and he closed his eyes. One beat, breathe. _This is Zoro, this is you._

He didn't stir when an arm draped up his back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow what a surprise its still a slow burn amazing  
> again, updates will once again resume being normal and not once a fucking yearrrr  
> expect some actual zosan soon i swear its happening


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here comes the zosan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well its about fukin time huh

-oOo-

  
  
  
  
  


Zoro woke up with the after images of another dream dripping off his mind. He glanced over at the cook, still deep in sleep with messy hair and hand extended. 

He’d dreamt of something like Sunny and Merry as one, carrying him and Sanji across green water. They’d been alone, and it was peaceful in a bittersweet sense, but being alone with Sanji didn't magically push them together. There was the feeling of a hand on his chest, heavy and light at the same time, but Sanji had been at the stern, far away with his back turned. He’d only been something far away and impossible to attain in that dream. 

He got up and dressed quickly, not caring that it was still dark out. It was rare that he woke up before the cook, but he had promised Sanji that he would check in on Mihawk anyways. 

He made his way down the hallways and steps, moving lightly in the early hours. The boat was dead quiet, with the chefs still sleeping away and the sun only just about to bring light. He popped into the kitchen to start coffee himself, glancing around for the older swordsman. He wandered over to the docking area to check if his boat was even still there, which it was. It reminded Zoro that he still didn't know where Perona hid her body and slept. He returned to the kitchen for his coffee, enjoying the near silence. 

He didn't really feel like running around the boat so early looking for Mihawk, since the man wouldn't be found unless he wanted to be and Zoro highly doubted that there was anything going on between him and Zeff. Even if there was, Zoro sure as fuck didn't want to know, ever. Mihawk was just a batshit crazy old asshole and Zeff was Sanji’s batshit crazy old dad and that was just that. 

 

“You’re up early.”

 

Zoro did  _ not _ jump at Perona’s voice. He was in complete control over his every movement, and she  _ didn't  _ surprise him. 

 

“Lookin’ for Mihawk.”

 

Perona hummed, floating over the coffee pot, mixing with the rising steam. 

 

“Last I saw him he was in the water I think.”

 

Zoro took a burning sip of coffee, nearly choking. He eyed Perona.

 

“Whada mean ‘in the water’.”

 

Perona played with the steam, unable to affect it. 

 

“I think he was diving or something. Devil fruit has its limits so I can't check.”

 

Zoro looked out the window, staring at the sea. He shook his head, drinking more scalding coffee. It was possible that Perona had annoyed the old man past his limit, and he had jumped into the salt water to be rid of her. If Zoro was lucky the bastard would just drown down there.

 

“Whatever. You gonna leave soon or what?”

 

Perona stopped playing with the steam, floating over to swat at his face. Zoro shivered at the slight feeling of something passing through his skin. 

 

“Don't be so rude! I’m the one that made Mihawk leave your room, you know.”

 

Zoro spit out the coffee.

 

“He was in our ROOM!?”

 

Perona gave him an unimpressed look.

 

“Are you actually  _ surprised _ ? For all I know he was there again last night too, so I hope you kept your pants on.”

 

Zoro put the coffee cup down, rubbing at the spilled liquid all down his front. His ears felt like they were on fire. 

 

“Why does he even do this shit? I’m starting to think he  _ wants  _ me to try to kill him.”

 

Perona floated down so she was at eye level with him. Her nose wrinkled at his stained jacket. 

 

“He’s got a weird way of showing he cares, I don't know. But look, if I were you I would really pick up the pace on the whole confession thing. Mihawk’s just gonna keep pushing, and it won't be long before he just goes up to Sanji and is all like ‘Roronoa’s heart is yours’ or something.”

 

Zoro rubbed at his face. He knew Perona was right, and it scared the shit out of him. If there was one thing he wanted in this whole situation, it was at the very least the control over how the cook found out about his feelings.  _ He  _ wanted to tell Sanji, and no one else had the right to say shit, no matter what good they thought they were doing. 

 

“Look, I’m working up to it, and it’ll be  _ soon _ , but I can't have Mihawk fucking around with the cook either. Can't you use your ghosts on him or something?”

 

Perona laughed at that, making Zoro scowl. 

 

“My ghosts won't go  _ near _ him, and that’s probably for the best. I can try distracting him, but that’s the best I can do. And!”

 

Zoro cringed. Perona had a big shit eating grin on her face. 

 

“-I’ll  _ only _ help if you ask me nicely.”

 

Zoro growled. He was screwed, because even if he didn't need Perona’s help that badly, he didn't trust her not to fuck him over out of spite if he refused her request. She was just as evil as Nami sometimes. 

 

“...please.”

 

Perona did a little somersault. 

 

“I can't hear youuuu.”

 

Zoro clenched his fists, looking around. At least they were still alone. 

 

“Will you... _ please _ help.”

 

“Come on, you can do better than that, Zoro!”

 

“Either take it or I see how much I’d get for turning you into the marines.”

 

Perona narrowed her eyes at him, and he glared back. He could only bend so much to someone so annoying. 

 

“Uhg, fine! Sanji’s too cute for you, just so you know.”

 

Zoro knew for a fact that Sanji  _ was  _ too cute for him, but like hell that of all things was stopping him at this point. He suddenly remembered one of the things he was going to ask Mihawk about. 

 

“Oh yeah, Zeff and Mihawk aren't a thing, right?”

Perona recoiled, making a gagging sound. Zoro waited expectantly. 

 

“Oh  _ gross _ ! Why would you  _ think  _ that! Now  _ I’m  _ thinking about it and I want to puke and god! You are so awful you know that? Just-  _ gross _ !”

 

She disappeared into the wall before Zoro could yell at her for an actual answer. It wasn't like  _ he  _ wanted to think about it either. He muttered a few long curses and downed some more coffee. He had more pressing things to figure out at the moment though, and he’d tuck the Mihawk/Zeff bomb away for hopefully ever. He needed to find somewhere he could think, where he wouldn't be interrupted and he could sort things out. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


Sanji woke up alone for the first time in months. 

He had gotten so used to waking up to Zoro snoring or Zoro holding him in his sleep or Zoro giving him heatstroke that the bed seemed enormous and cold without his presence. It was startling; the emptiness left behind like that. 

He sat up in bed and touched the cool sheets, confused. It was unlike Zoro to change his sleep schedule, but if something had happened Zoro would have woken Sanji, surley. It brought a cold feeling to the pit of Sanji’s stomach and he raised a hand to his chest, trying to remember where Zoro had put his own hand. Something like that wouldn't have set Zoro off. It couldn't have been that. 

He got up and dressed like usual, because the moss head not being there didn't mean the customers wouldn't show up, and he had work to do and who  _ cares _ if Zoro just- got up. He’d find the asshole later and figure out if he had gotten lost on his way to the bathroom for something.

He made his way to the kitchens, aware that Mihawk was staring into his back from his preferred table on the deck. Sanji was still convinced the man didn't sleep, or if he did he did so with his eyes open and back straight in his chair. Sanji confidently ignored his gaze, and rushed through the door to get the day started. He greeted his early chefs, poured himself coffee, and got to work. 

He didn't care where Zoro was or what he was doing. He  _ didn't.  _

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro found out, by accident, that if he sat for long enough behind all the meat in the freezer, the sound of the ship would disappear. The cold wasn't biting, and so he had sat himself down and allowed his body to relax into meditation. 

He was going to tell Sanji that they had had drunk sex one way or another, and he was going to do it today. No more excuses or interuptions. Meteors could be falling outside and he’d go grab the cook and take him somewhere private and come clean about the night of the storm. Mihawk be fucking damned.

Meditating was his best way of mental preparation, to calm himself and come to peace with any negative outcomes. He didn't mean to stay so long, but he also knew that if he returned to their room and saw Sanji’s sleeping face, sweet and relaxed, he’d lose his nerve all over again. He wanted his mind clean, not clouded by how gentle and young Sanji was when resting beside Zoro. 

He wasn't sure what to expect anymore when it came to Sanji’s reaction. Last night had been another strange instance of intimacy between them, where suddenly it was like they’d always been so close. Sanji’s calloused fingers would have felt the way Zoro’s pulse spiked at contact between them, and Zoro just didn't even feel like giving excuses anymore. If Sanji had asked, right then, how Zoro felt about him, the swordsman might have just about told him everything. In the dark, with Sanji being nothing more than a silhouette and a soft touch, Zoro had loved him so much. 

He closed his eyes and breathed, remembering the bumps of Sanji’s spine under his fingers. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro hadn't shown up for breakfast. 

Sanji didn't get it. Zoro had been waking up after him, getting breakfast, and then going to the watch duty or fucking about on a routine schedule. He barely got that lost anymore and he had to be  _ hungry _ so where was he?

 

“If you ask me again if I’ve seen the kelp head I’ll make you clear dishes, eggplant.”

 

Sanji bit back the words that definitely weren't inquiries on Zoro’s location, instead glaring at the older man. 

 

“I don't allow  _ anyone  _ to miss a meal on this ship. The marimo is no exception and there better be a damned good reason for him missing breakfast. Also you can't tell me what to do!”

 

Zeff grunted, scraping at his eggs. They were sitting at their usual table near the kitchen doors, able to observe the diners as they sipped coffee. 

 

“Perhaps Roronoa felt a call to action, so to speak.”

 

Sanji had been doing a good job of ignoring Mihawk completely, since the head chef sure as hell hadn’t invited him to the table, and he wasn't even going to touch on the subject of Zeff inviting him over. The only saving grace was that Perona, sweet and beautiful and angelic, had also joined them. Now though, Sanji turned to the older swordsman, raising a brow.

 

“There’s not exactly any ‘action’ here for him to be called by.”

 

Mihawk took a silent sip of his mystery beverage. Sanji was quite certain it wasn't tea or coffee and it was disturbingly dark colored. 

 

“Which would explain his absence. His patience as a chef’s dog may have run dry, and he could be islands away by now for all we know.”

 

Zeff gave another grunt, earning a look from Mihawk. The two exchanged weird silent looks and Perona poked at Mihawk, grabbing his attention. She said something but Sanji was suddenly wrapped in Mihawk’s words. 

Zoro wouldn't have just left. He  _ couldn't  _ have just up and left. Sanji was sure that the marimo would at least say  _ something _ to him. They’d been spending so much time together that Sanji wasn't even sure what to  _ do  _ if Zoro just- left. Sanji wouldn't say he  _ depended _ on the mosshead but, still. It was  _ Zoro _ and he was  _ Sanji _ and didn't that mean something now? Wasn't that a  _ thing _ that had become  _ something _ ? 

 

“I bet he’d just lost again! Want me to go look for the moron?”

 

Sanji started, looking up at Perona. He smiled at her, hoping it wouldn't come across as anxious. 

 

“I could never ask a lady such as yourself to be troubled over that idiot, Perona-chan. Can I get you anything else? More tea? Something sweet?”

 

Perona eyed Mihawk before glancing around. She looked annoyed, and Sanji hoped he wasn't the cause. He was trying his damn best to act normal while underneath he was losing his shit a little. That and the fact that Mihawk was  _ still  _ staring at him. 

 

“Uh, sure. Maybe some yogurt? And, uh, yeah more tea. Thanks.”

 

Sanji got up immediately, smiling at her. If there was one thing to distract him it could always be serving a beautiful woman. He spun around and went into the kitchen, hell bent on making a perfect parfait presentation. 

Unfortunately he couldn't shut off the part of his brain that was screaming at him to go find Zoro. It was ridiculous, but the thought of Zoro just suddenly being gone was as insulting as it was _horrible_. A slap on the face saying he, Sanji, wasn't even worth so much as a fucking note. And then the notion that Sanji hadn’t gotten to tell Zoro about the storm night, and if he didn't say it god damn _soon_ he might never and what kind of an excuse was that really? At the end of it all, Zoro would still fuck off somewhere and Sanji would be behind with that bit of knowledge and self loathing and _why_ _would the marimo even leave?_

Why  _ would  _ Zoro leave? Didn't he have everything he needed here? What more could a person want other than amazing food, a beautiful view and- and fighting with Sanji? Wouldn't Zoro miss that? 

Wouldn't Zoro miss Sanji?

He slammed the glass down on the counter, enough that spider-web cracks appeared on the crystal and he cursed, throwing it into the bin. Fuck the weak glass. Fuck Mihawk for showing up. Fuck Zoro. Sanji didn't  _ need _ Zoro. Why would he need a lazy good-for-nothing swordsman on his amazing dining ship? His stupid ass didn't even help really! So what if Zoro was fun to fight and make fun of and talk to and cook for and kiss-

Sanji bent the spoon in his hand, cursing and throwing it at the wall. It bounced off and hit a passing chef in the head, and Sanji winced as the man went down. The head chef quickly grabbed the near-perfect dish of yogurt parfait and the teapot and ran out the door. He begged any god out there that Perona would forgive him for the less than exquisite presentation. 

Perona was busy talking to Mihawk and Zeff in a low voice, but stopped as soon as she saw him. All three heads at the table swiveled in his direction and pretended not to be creeped out by that. 

 

“Perona, dear, may I pour you a fresh cup?”

 

Perona eagerly extended her empty tea cup, smiling wide. She also accepted the yogurt with no shortage of enthusiasm. Sanji smiled, placated at someone enjoying his food. It was too bad Zoro wasn't enjoying it. 

Sanji felt his mood sour and smile turn down. He had to stop thinking about the green caveman and enjoy his current company. For fucks sake, he didn't even know if Zoro  _ was  _ gone. 

 

“Stop worrying about zucchini head already.”

 

Sanji bristled, glaring over at Zeff. 

 

“Who’s worried? If the mosshead fell overboard and drowned that means less work for me. I’d be  _ happy  _ to be rid of him.”

 

A collective silence followed as the table stared at him. Sanji looked away, cheeks flushed. Zeff patted his shoulder, and Sanji tried to squirm away from the touch. 

 

“I still think it's plausible he has taken it upon himself to lea-

 

Mihawk was cut off by Perona, pushing a cup of tea against his closed lips. Her hand shook with pressure, and his eyes slid over to her, unamused. They exchanged a silent conversation that lasted an eternity before Perona cautiously removed the cup. Sanji starred. Perona clapped her hands together like nothing had happened.

 

“He’ll show up eventually! He’d be crazy not too, with how good this food is!”

 

She took another overly enthusiastic bite, and Sanji gave her a half hearted smile. He  _ wasn't  _ worried about that meathead. He  _ wasn't _ . 

But he also hoped she was right. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro wondered out of his hiding spot feeling much more centered than he had in awhile. Granted, it took him a long as hell time to get from his hiding spot back to the deck, and he had no idea just how long he had been down there. All he knew was that he was hungry, and he wanted to find Sanji, and those two things fit together pretty well. 

He ran into Perona first, who looked less than happy to see him. 

 

“Well  _ you  _ sure took your sweet time! Do you have any idea what I’ve-

 

“Where's the cook?”

 

Perona looked like she wanted to strangle him, but Perona usually wanted to strangle him so Zoro didn't take it to heart. She deflated, running her fingers through her uncombed pink hair. 

 

“He’s in the kitchens. It’s after lunch time, moron.”

 

“Oh, shit.”

 

Perona gave him a flat look. Zoro cursed again, because  _ shit _ . He hadn't planned on skipping breakfast, knowing it would put Sanji is a less than great mood, but skipping lunch too was asking for death. Here he was, getting ready to approach Sanji about a pretty sensitive topic, and the cook would probably want to kick his face in first thing. 

 

“Well are you just gonna  _ stand there _ ?”

 

Zoro shook himself out of his thoughts, looking at Perona. She gestured to the kitchens. Zoro nodded. Perona’s eyes jumped to behind Zoro, and the swordsman felt his swords vibrate at the familiar presence. 

 

“I’m most interested in the reaction to your appearance. Did you, by chance, know that the head chef gets violently upset when people miss meal times?”

 

Zoro groaned. He glanced over at Mihawk. 

 

“If I give you my other eye will you leave? Or do you want an arm? Seriously, what will it take?”

 

Mihawk opened his mouth and Perona quickly covered it. She glared at both of them. 

 

“Nope, no, shut up, just go already!”

 

Mihawk didn't look pleased at having his mouth covered, but he also didn't look that bothered. Zoro figured that if she was still alive now, he’d spare her for it, and anyways he had shit to take care of. He nodded to her, genuinely grateful she’d taken his side for now. He weaved around tables, making his way over to the large door. 

Behind him, Perona and Mihawk watched. Perona quickly removed her hand, crossing her arms at the older man. He blinked at her. 

 

“I would have accepted the eye.”

 

Perona groaned. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Sanji was helping with the usual clean up when the door banged open in a familiarly rude way. 

Heads turned to regard Zoro with a mix of surprise and annoyance, but Zoro was only looking at Sanji. 

 

“Cook-

 

Zoro dodged the knives, all embedded in the wooden door and wall now. Sanji reached for a few more, absolutely fuming. Zoro could tell he was at a level of pissed off that went past playful, mouth shut in a tight line like he wanted to bite through his own tongue. The kitchen had fallen to a caution motion, with chefs still quietly working in the background, knowing they’d get in more trouble for stopping. Zoro raised his hands palm out in surrender. 

 

“Can I eat something?”

 

Zoro knew where to play to Sanji’s weaknesses, and it was a cheap move but in one moment Sanji was ready to kill him and the next he was utterly defeated by his own morals. Sanji wouldn't  _ not _ feed anyone. It was asking him to stop breathing. 

That didn't mean he had to be happy about it though. He glared sharply at the swordsman, a silent  _ back off _ warning. Zoro stayed by the door and the cook cooked. 

Sanji moved with his usual alley cat quickness right under Zoro’s nose, finishing up and sliding out the door so quickly it had Zoro tripping. Sanji didn't throw the plate down though, and Zoro silently worried. The cook took a sharp turn and suddenly they were trotting up steps, going around corners and then it was Sanji and Zoro with a plate of scampi in their room. 

 

“So-

 

“Where the fuck  _ were  _ you!?”

 

Zoro leaned back, the ferociousness of Sanji right in his face. It hit him then, that maybe this was more than Sanji’s usual anger at a missed meal. 

 

“Meditating in the freezer. I think.”

 

Zoro reached for the scampi since he  _ was _ hungry, and Sanji moved it away from his hand. The movement seemed to surprise both of them, and Sanji jerkily moved it towards the other man. 

 

“You can't just-  _ disappear  _ like that!”

 

Zoro cautiously took the plate, looked at it and then Sanji, and then placed it down on the little table. A new wave of anger seemed to roll of the cook and Zoro was quick to explain. 

 

“Look, can we talk? I promise I’ll eat-

 

“Fuck you! Eat it  _ now _ you shithead!”

 

“Why can't I eat it later?”

 

“You’ve already put off eating for hours!”

 

Zoro balled his hands in frustration, narrowing his eye at the cook. Sanji was standing there, burning away with that anger of his. 

 

“Why are you so pissy about this? I’ll eat later!”

 

Sanji grabbed the front of Zoro’s coat, fist winding in the fabric. He looked like he didn't know what he was doing. He shoved away, pushing Zoro. They stood apart from each other, and Sanji exhaled. 

 

 “I thought you fucking  _ left _ .”

 

The coin dropped in Zoro’s head. Sanji was upset that Zoro had gone and missed meals, but Sanji was  _ angry _ because he thought that Zoro had up and left. And if Sanji was this pissed off about that, well. Well that meant something. 

 

“You really think I’d just leave like that? Without a goodbye even?”

 

“I don't fucking know, ok? Mihawk said some shit and I just-

 

Sanji cut himself off, eyes on the floor and arms crossed. Zoro rubbed the bridge of his nose, cursing Mihawk to all hell and further. He eyed Sanji, standing there like he was trying to fit into a corner. He did stuff like that sometimes, like he was suddenly afraid he was taking up too much space. The man was so full to the brim with iron hard confidence, but sometimes he was only a person who had a lot of shit piled up on his soul. Zoro wanted to take that weight and throw it overboard, but he just couldn't and he hated how true that was. 

 

“I need to tell you something”

 

Sanji looked up at him with his big blue eyes, like he was on the verge of collapse but still wanted to fight. It made Zoro want to gather him up in his arms and never let go.

But he couldn't do that. He had to be ready to back away from all this, everything, because he just didn't know what outcome the things he said would lead to. All he could do right now was breathe in and let it all out. 

 

"That storm night, when we were drinking a lot- something happened that you don't remember and I do."

 

He paused, making sure Sanji was still looking right at him. He was, blue eyes still open and unmoving. Zoro looked away again, unable to continue while meeting the gaze. 

 

"We- well we got pretty fucking drunk, and, I think you. Kissed me."

 

Zoro gave a quick glance to the cook before continuing, pushing through his heart stuck in his throat. 

 

"And I kissed you back. and then we, did stuff. Sex kind of stuff. Which I liked."

 

He cautiously made eye contact, his shoulders stiff and heart quick. Sanji stared back, those blue eyes wide and open. Zoro gave him a chance to speak, and when he didnt the swordsman's panic skyrocketed. 

 

"I should have told you and I'm-

 

"I know."

 

Zoro stopped, looking back at Sanji. 

 

"...you know what?"

 

Sanji looked...not very upset. Much more nervous than upset at least. 

 

"I...kinda knew that we fooled around. But I didn't think that, uh, that you did. I thought you didn't remember."

 

Zoro blinked. He waited for those words to make more sense but they just. Didn't. 

 

"You...knew...."

 

Sanji knowing didn't make sense. It just didn't make  _ sense _ . He should be having a ridiculous freak out right now, he should- but he- but he  _ knew- _

 

"Why the fuck didn't you say anything then!?"

 

He didn't quite mean to yell it in the cook's face but he also  _ did _ because what the  _ fuck _ did any of this mean now? What did this Sanji, looking uncomfortable and nervous and red-faced mean by all this?

 

"What the fuck was I supposed to say!? 'Oh hey, marimo, you know how you can't stand my fucking guts? Well we kissed and gave each other handjobs!' You would have tried to cut my head off!"

 

"No you fucking idiot you say it like a normal person like I  _ just did _ ! I just said it all, cook! It was that easy!"

 

Sanji growled low, poking Zoro in the chest hard. 

 

"Oh that was  _ easy  _ for you? Do you have the fucking emotional capacity of a rock? I've been agonizing over this shit! I thought- for fucks sake! I thought you'd be pissed or something!"

 

Zoro clenched and unclenched his fists, teeth feeling sharp in his mouth. 

 

"I said I liked it! How could anyone not like something like that with someone like you!?"

 

He snapped his mouth shut, looking away. He was fucking up, hard. He didn't let his heart leak like this, but Sanji was there, in his space and head and making it all come out so tremendously. If the cook kept pushing him then all the cracks would add up and the wall would break and Zoro would be there, standing with his heart outstretched in his hands, ready to fall to bits. 

 

"...What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Zoro huffed a breath, tired to the bone. He was tired of it all getting crumpled up inside himself, and he was tired of trying to understand everything he felt. But he was more tired of Sanji, standing there, not knowing that he was something fantastic and perfect.

 

"Do you know how gorgeous you are, cook? You have to know at least a little, with the way you flirt. You  _ have _ to know you're something beautiful."

 

He wasn't expecting the kiss. He was talking and then Sanji was kissing him, surprising him like Sanji always seemed to keep doing, breaking him open and devouring the contents. Sanji was kissing him and they were sober and Zoro kissed back because Sanji and Sanji and  _ Sanji _ . 

Zoro cupped the mans face, holding him there so he could meet Sanji evenly, tongues messy and teeth scraping. He didn't want to breathe until he had kissed Sanji every way there was to kiss someone. He still let the cook pull away, conscious that nothing was final, nothing was permanent. 

 

"I liked it too. I was just afraid-

 

"-that if you said anything things would get fucked up-

 

"-And I  _ like _ you-

 

"-I didn't want to lose you, Sanji-

 

Zoro let Sanji pull him back into the kiss, let him have control, knowing that if it wasn't Sanji making decisions right now then Zoro might really lose it all and bury his heart in Sanji ribs. It was too soon for that, and Zoro wanted what they had now to be for now, and for later to be for later. He wanted to kiss Sanji right then, and so he would. 

 

“Zoro, did you-OH!”

 

Zoro’s eye popped open just in time to catch Perona’s embarrassed expression before Sanji’s knee-jerk reaction kicked in and suddenly Zoro wasn't standing anymore. He felt like his ribs were broken, and he was staring up at the ceiling and kinda pissed, but he had also just kissed Sanji so he could live with a kick to the chest. He lay on the floor listening to Sanji and Perona fluster. 

 

“Sorry! Sorry I’ll, uh, just- yeah.”

 

“No need to apologize Perona dear! Did you need-

 

“No, no I’m good! I actually think someone’s calling me so I better-

 

“Right, of course! And if you need anything-

 

“Yup! Ok gonna go now!”

 

The chatter stopped and Zoro guessed that Perona actually finally left. A few seconds ticked by and Zoro’s view of the ceiling became blocked by a yellow head.

 

“Uh, sorry.”

 

Zoro shrugged. Or shrugged as best he could while laying down on his back. 

 

“Eh, not your fault.”

 

Silence again. Zoro kept looking up at Sanji, and he kept looking down at Zoro. He had a startled look on his face, the normal wide eyes of a man caught off guard and the Sanji signature lip bite that meant he wanted a cigarette and didn't know what to say. Zoro couldn't blame him. It wasn't like he knew what to say either. 

 

“So, I still gotta do the dinner shift...”

 

Zoro nodded. Sanji’s restaurant didn't stop for anything or anyone, of course. 

 

“But after that, uh, we could. Continue?”

 

Zoro pushed himself up, Sanji backing away to give him room. He was still all wide blue eyes and red ears. Boyish and handsome in all the ways that pulled just right at Zoro’s heart. 

 

“Yeah. Yeah and I’ll go back on watch.”

 

This time Sanji’s wide eyes crinkled as a grin stretched his face. He laughed, brushing some hair to the side.

 

“You know you don't actually gotta do the watch, right?”

 

Zoro felt his own face splitting with a grin. He chuckled, joining in on Sanji’s deep wind chime laugh. 

 

“Yeah, whatever, shit-cook.”

 

Sanji laughed harder, and Zoro thought it’d be so easy to get addicted to making him laugh like that. Who knew there were new ways to make Sanji that much more beautiful, just with words. The cook cut himself off, looking over at the bedside table.

 

“Oh shit, the shrimp scampi is definitely cold now.”

 

Zoro just kept laughing. Sanji turned to him, red cheeked. Zoro smiled up at him. 

 

“Who cares, it’ll still be good.”

 

Sanji scoffed, picking up the dish and handing it to Zoro, smirking. Zoro took it, letting his hand fold over Sanji’s fingers meaningfully. He took the plate slowly, letting his smile fade into something easier and calm, making sure he would never forget the blushing Sanji in front of him, smiling because of Zoro. He was still hungry as hell though, and yeah, the food  _ would  _ still be damn good. 

 

“Yeah yeah. Just eat it all, dumbass.”

 

Sanji’s fingers slid off the plate, away from the other man’s hand. He brought his fingers up, touching the shell of Zoro’s ear as a kiss was pressed to the swordsman’s brow. It was lingering, but still so soft that Zoro thought his own blush would be enough to heat up the meal. Then Sanji was at the door, giving him a look over his shoulder like he was still startled, but in a happy way. 

 

“And don't skip dinner, marimo.”

 

And then he was gone, off to go start meal prep or yell at chefs or Zeff or anything really. All Zoro had to remind himself it wasn't a dream was the plate in his hand and the buzz on his lips. 

_ Later.  _ He thought, touching them. It was like Sanji had left behind the vibrations of his voice tingling on his lips. 

_ Later.  _

  
  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, Perona and Nami should def join forces to harass Zoro  
> but ok damn this took a while huh but boy howdy look at that its actual zosan huh like wow  
> Anyways yes! more of the actual real zosan to come! it just continues from here on out people! once again thank you everyone for the comments I never have time to fucking reply to ok im out


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lads, the chapter is explicit af

  
  
  


Sanji’s hands weren’t shaking. They  _ weren’t.  _

 

“Why the hell are your hands shaking, eggplant?”

Sanji put his spoon down and went about tossing a salad, not looking at Zeff. 

 

“Need a smoke, fuck off.”

 

He  _ did  _ really want to smoke, but he’d been doing so well with cutting back to one a day, and he wasn't going to just piss off from the middle of dinner shift. Whether it was the reason his hands were shaking or not didn't matter at all because it wasn't anyone’s damn business. Beside him, Zeff tutted and went back to his own work, actually being useful and quiet for once. Sanji was just glad the bastad wasn't spending more quality time with the vampire wannabe out on deck. 

 

“Oi, is the grass-head back on watch?”

 

Sanji started badly enough that a good deal of salad went all over the counter. He cursed, throwing the lettuce and chunks of carrot back in the bowl. Zeff stared at him, hard. Sanji gave a shrug he hoped came across as nonchalant.

 

“How should I know? I don't monitor the marimo.”

 

Zeff tapped his peg leg on the ground, and Sanji’s eyes nervously shifted around. It wasn't that he wanted to keep everything a  _ secret _ really, this whole-  _ whatever _ he and Zoro were at the moment, but he didn't want to broadcast it either. They hadn't even really done anything anyways. Well, except the very drunk sex thing. And the recent kiss thing. And the soon to be sober sex thing. 

Sanji spilled the salad bowl again. 

 

“Oi, where’s your head at, eggplant?”

 

Sanji mumbled at him to shut up, face red. He was all jitters like his goddamn puberty years, freaking out over the mear mention of sex and running around like a headless chicken. Who would of thought that Roronoa Zoro of all people would make Sanji feel like a fucking virgin. 

Sanji felt his blush come back with a vengeance. Zoro most certainly was  _ not  _ a virgin if his memory served him right. And then they hadnt even  _ really _ have sex and tonight maybe they  _ would  _ and-

 

“Oi! You gonna start worshiping that carrot or something? Get back to work!”

 

Sanji bit back a retort, throwing the carrot that he may have been staring at a little too intensely into the bowl again. He concentrated on the salad, because if he couldn't make  _ that  _ then he was sure as hell fucked. Even if the green reminded him of Zoro’s hair and-

 

“FUCK!”

 

He had been leaning too far over the bowl, his tie just close enough to the nearby burner to start smoking, and suddenly light up. Sanji ran to the sink, throwing on the tap to extinguish the ruined clothing. He pulled it from his neck, tossing it in the bin with flushed ears. 

 

“Ok, that's it, you’re off kitchen duty.”

 

Sanji twisted his head to glare at Zeff, standing in Sanji’s way and blocking his access to his station. The man was much shorter than Sanji by now, old age making him stoop low, but then again Sanji had only ever really felt like a child when Zeff stood with his arms crossed like that. 

 

“You can't make that call, it's  _ my  _ restaurant you shitty old man.”

 

Zeff stood his ground. Sanji glared back, eyes flickering around the room to make sure the staff were still working despite the dramatics. 

 

“You’re too distracted to be of any use, so go deal with whatever’s got your pants twisted!”

 

Sanji fumed, tempted to lash out. Zeff was right though, and wouldn't ever throw Sanji out of the kitchen (which he  _ owned _ ) for no reason. Still, it wasn't Zeff’s call to make, and it pissed Sanji off to no end. 

 

“I was going to take a night off  _ anyways _ .” 

 

The head chef didn't give Zeff another opportunity to humiliate him, and passed through the doors to the main deck quickly. He lit up a cigarette because  _ fuck it _ and took a long drag. So maybe he was a little too distracted to work right now. Anyone in his situation would be a little distracted. He was basically going to have (sober) sex with a crewmate he’d know for years and had a newfound and enormous crush on. Anyone would be nervous. Maybe  _ Zoro  _ was even nervous. 

Sanji looked up at the crows nest. He doubted that sex was something Zoro got nervous over, but maybe the swordsman was feeling just a  _ little _ antsy over the whole situation. Sanji thought about a nervous Zoro, red faced with averted eye contact, and he’d never combine the words  _ cute  _ and  _ Zoro _ but it was damn close. Sanji looked over at the rigging ladder, feeling his ears burn once again. 

Zeff  _ had  _ told him to go deal with his distraction, and Zoro  _ was _ basically the source, so. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro wished he had his training equipment. 

He was so used to being in the crows nest with something to lift or just  _ anything  _ to do really, that being on watch with just his thoughts was maddening. How the fuck was he supposed to be keeping guard of the ship when he had tonight to think about? 

Well, technically he didn't  _ have  _ to be on watch, but he wasn't just going to wait around in the room for hours. He also wasn't going to risk walking around on deck because fuck knows who Perona shared her new information with. Maybe if she had told Mihawk, the man would finally leave at least. 

The sound of creaking wood caught his attention, and he reached out with his haki just enough to touch on Sanji’s presence coming up the rigging. 

Zoro felt his pulse skyrocket. He’d only been up there for maybe an hour, but maybe Sanji had changed his mind and decided to come tell him to fuck off. Maybe the cook had realized the storm night had just been a drunk fuck and there was no reason to continue and maybe he wanted Zoro to  _ leave  _ now and-

 

“Oi, I know I said you don't have to be on watch but can you at least pretend you’re on lookout?” 

 

Sanji’s voice was smooth as ever, cigarette hanging from his mouth and Zoro immediately wanted to pluck it out and kiss him. It was almost frightening how strong the urge was, just to take up Sanji’s space and touch the other man now that there was a sliver of a chance at possibilities. Zoro shook himself, giving Sanji a smirk that he hoped looked relaxed. 

 

“Maybe I want a fight to come to us.”

 

Lord knows it would welcome. Zoro would kill for a chance to burn off some energy right now, especially with the way Sanji was smiling down at him, hands deep in his pockets with his hip angled to the side. It was a pose that could only be pulled off by a man who looked good, and  _ knew  _ he looked good. 

 

“Well I  _ was  _ going to offer something to alleviate the boredom, but if you’d rather wait for a fight…”

 

Sanji began turning away, purposefully slow, and Zoro knew fully well he was playing right into the cook’s hands when he reached out to drag the other man back. Sanji let out his deep chiming laugh, allowing his body to be pinned against the side of the wood as Zoro took up that space he had wanted to. He was thrilled to be where he was, to be  _ invited _ and accepted by Sanji like this- it would be addicting, fast. He leaned forward, keeping his voice low as the distance closed. 

 

“What happened to dinner shift?”

 

Sanji just shrugged, eyes flicking down to Zoro’s mouth and back up. He was still smiling.

 

“The chefs can handle it. I didn't feel like waiting.”

 

Sanji cleared the last bit of distance, pressing his lips to Zoro’s. Zoro hummed, relief flowing gently through him that Sanji still seemed to want this- want  _ him _ . He let the cook control the kiss, busy running his hands over Sanji’s hip bones, his back, his shoulders. Sanji’s fingers played with the hair at the base of Zoro’s skull, arms winding around the broader back and securing his hold. They were pressed flush together, and Zoro wondered if Sanji would be able to hear how loud his heartbeat was. 

Feeling brave, Zoro played with the hem of Sanji’s shirt, untucking it a little so he could get at the skin of Sanji’s lower back. He ducked his head to kiss at Sanji’s neck softly, before pulling back to look at the cook. 

 

“This ok?”

 

Sanji’s visible eye fluttered open, and he was panting softly. Zoro wanted to see how much more he could get the flush on Sanji’s face to spread and burn. The faint memory of Sanji’s face like this didn't compare to the one now, with an easy smile coming to the blonde’s face. 

 

“Didn't take you for a gentleman, marimo.”

 

Zoro nipped at his neck again, nose tickled by slight stubble. He moved up, letting his lips catch the shell of Sanji’s ear, delighting in the shiver he received. 

 

“I wanna make sure it's good for you.”

 

And he did. He wanted so badly to know all the ways he could make Sanji feel good, to make him fall apart and cry out. Zoro had had so much time to fantasize and dream up this moment, and now that it was real he wanted nothing less than something amazing for the man in his arms. He wanted to be able to give that to Sanji. 

 

“Idiot. It goes both ways, y’know.”

 

Zoro smiled into the kiss Sanji pressed on him. It was only natural that the cook gave as good as he got. It was just one of those things Zoro loved all the way through his soul.

 

“I know it’ll be good for me. I trust you, Sanji.”

 

He felt the cook still, lips moving away and his face coming back into view as Zoro opened his eye. He worried he had said something wrong, watching Sanji’s flushed face look at him with large blue eyes. 

 

“Yeah, ok, we gotta get to the room.”

 

Zoro laughed, watching as Sanji nearly tripped trying to get back to the rigging. He got a glare in response, but the effect was lost due to the harsh blush on Sanji’s cheeks. Zoro climbed after him, in just as much a hurry to get somewhere private suddenly. 

He chased Sanji by the railing, passing customers paying them little mind and a few confused waiters. They sprinted around the back way, avoiding the kitchen area and Sanji had to grab into Zoro’s shirt to pull him in the right direction. They tripped up stairs and Zoro’s loud boots thudded againt the wood and echoed along hallwyas until they reached their room. The door closed and they stood facing each other, a little out of breath, smiling like idiots. 

Zoro took the first step forward this time, and the mood shifted. Sanji’s smile eased into expectancy, the light dancing in his eyes. It wasn't dark yet, the sun was only just dipping behind the edge of the world, and the shadows were long and dramatic all over the room. 

 

“You gonna stand there all day, marimo?”

 

Sanji said it softly, careful not to break the spell. Zoro didn't answer. Instead he took one step forward, pressing against Sanji, bringing his hands up to cup the pale face. Again, he was so suprised that the cook allowed the gentle touch so easily, looking right at Zoro without any hesitance hidden there. 

Sanij tasted like sea salt on Zoro’s tongue. He tasted like a fight, like a home, like something bad and good and the only thing in the world. As the kiss deepend his lips formed sounds that Zoro drank, and his body arched up into every touch Zoro pressed to his skin. The untucked white shirt Sanji wore came undone, button by button until it fell on the floor in a heap. He laid his hands on Sanji’s body, gently at first, marveling at every inch displayed for him to feast on. He felt rabid, like some feral creature that hadn’t eaten or slept in years, now free and shaking. 

 

“Zoro, come on…”

 

He’d just been staring, running his fingers like he was trying to play music with Sanji’s ribs. He broke from his reverie, pressing more kisses to the body beneath him, feeling his whole core shake as Sanji pressed his hips up, winding a leg around Zoro’s waist and grinding their lengths together through clothes. They both moaned, long and drawn out at the touch. Zoro reached down to taste that moan, to pull at Sanji’s pants. 

 

“Sanji, can I-

 

“Yeah, do it,  _ fuck _ -

 

Sanji hissed at the air around his now bare body, pants falling down Sanji’s toned thighs. Zoro pushed him against the back of the door, desperate to touch again. Zoro lowered himself quickly, bending his back so his teeth could leave marks on Sanji’s hip. He wanted to paint all over the skin before him, leave Sanji wearing bruises like jewels. He closed his mouth around Sanji’s member, letting the cook rock into him, keeping his ears open for Sanji’s filthy mouth to curse every word he knew. 

 

“Zoro! Fucking-god,  _ fuck! Zoro _ !”

 

Zoro didn't think he could stop even if he wanted to. He sucked hard, fingers digging into Sanji’s thighs, pulling him into him, making the blonde’s hips move in and out, fucking his mouth. He pulled off to drag his teeth over Sanji’s naval, bite hard onto the other hip bone, and then he returned his mouth to Sanji, letting Sanji do anything he wanted,  _ anything  _ he wanted. 

 

“Gonna-Zoro, m’close, fuck so  _ close _ -!”

 

Zoro just returned his hands to Sanji’s thighs, forcing him deeper into his mouth, making him reach the back of his throat with his cock until Sanji shuddered, hard and beautiful while Zoro swallowed everything. He pulled himself off, licking everything left, feeling the cook shiver and moan above him. He felt dizzy, thrown off by arousal, by need and satisfaction and  _ Sanji _ . 

 

“San-

 

Zoro was pushed, back hitting the matress as Sanji suddenly sat above him, eyes almost black and tearing off his skin with how hungry they looked. He was something unearthly, something like a god. Like a dream. 

 

“Oil, side drawer.  _ Now _ .”

 

His command made his aching cock twitch and his throat bob. Sanji’s low voice, coated in arousal and course from crying out. Zoro wanted Sanji to tell him how to do horrible things to his body in that voice. He fumbled with the little drawer by the bed, grabbing a few small bottles and desperately trying to figure out what was what. He shuddered as Sanji’s nails flicked down his chest, then reached to grab the right oil from Zoro’s hand.  

 

“Now I’m going to suck you, and you’re going to get me ready. And if you cum before I’m ready, you can just sit back and watch me fuck myself, got it?”

 

Zoro nodded, unable to speak. The oil was pressed into his hand, and he took it, gripping the little bottle so tightly he worried he would break it. Sanji began turning around, but Zoro grabbed him by the back of the neck, forcing his tongue into Sanji’s mouth, letting the cook dirty the kiss and taste himself. He moaned, deep and long while Sanji sucked on his tongue and pulled away, giving him a heated stare and a small smirk as he turned. 

Sanji moved fast, quick fingers lazily stroking Zoro while he fumbled with the oil. His fingers shook so badly that he couldn't get the cap off. He felt his pants finally open, and then the hot and wet warmth of Sanji’s tongue moving along his shaft.

 

“Ah,  _ shit, Sanji _ -

 

The cook didn't stop, he teased Zoro and the swordsman gave up on the oil for the moment, gripping at Sanji’s hip and pulling him back, pressing his tongue against Sanji’s hole. He sucked a bit, and a choked noise came from Sanji, followed by a low moan as he popped his mouth off of Zoro. Zoro took the opportunity to finally uncap the oil, replacing his mouth with his fingers, pressing into Sanji.

 

“Ohhh fuuuck,  _ fuck _ , yeah, like that…”

 

Zoro knew this part. He knew all the ways he could make Sanji curl his toes and beg at him from inside. Sanji was  _ incredible _ , but Zoro would give him everything and make him love it. He’s pull sounds from Sanji that no one else would be able to. He’d destroy the man before him and then build him back up. 

He pushed another finger in, moving them even as Sanji returned to sucking him off, moving his tongue so sinfully and perfectly. Zoro took short, controlled breaths through his nose, desperately focusing on his fingers in the tight warmth of Sanji. 

 

“C’mon,  _ more _ , Zoro.”

 

Zoro complied. Sanji could have told him to eat his own arm and he would have fucking done it right them. He added a third finger, moving them deeper, fucking Sanji with them until the blonde was only moaning around his length. Each of them sending the other man into unhinged pleasure.

 

“Sanji, fuck,  _ please _ !”

 

Sanji moved his body, lithe and fast, forcing Zoro back to the flat of his back, caging Zoro in with his arms and legs. Even in the dim light, Zoro could see the red flush dusting over his entire body, coloring him soft and light. 

 

“Better hold on, marimo.”

 

He sounded out of breath, still so damn cocky as he had the right to be. He reached for Zoro’s cock, touching it so gently as he lined it up, and moved himself down at a snail's pace. His eyes never left Zoro’s face, and Zoro was gone. He was lost. He’d let Sanji kill him right then, he let Sanji break all his bones, he’d give Sanji  _ everything _ . He’d fucking bow his head, he’d worship the man. 

 

“Fuck _ , Sanji! _ ” 

 

He dug his hands into those kiss bitten hips, knowing they’d be purple by the morning, coloring all the rose pink dust that had settled on the smooth skin. He had to close his eyes, trying to breathe as best he could while Sanji settled around him in every sense. 

 

“ _ Ah, ah _ -fuck, come-ah- come on Zoro, is this really the world’s best?”

 

Zoro opened his eyes again, taking in how wrecked Sanji look. He was utterly gorgeous, bared to Zoro like a gift to be opened. Who was Zoro to let down this man, so completely perfect and deserving of only pleasure? 

 

“You asked for it, remember that,  _ Sanji _ .”

 

Sanji shuddered, and before he could prepare himself Zoro rocked into him, lifting his hips hard and quick, his fingers still digging into the warm colored flesh of Sanji’s hips. 

 

“ _ FUCK!  _ Fuck,  _ yes, yes! _ ”

 

Zoro didn't stop, his hips kissed Sanji’s and the cook rocked down onto him, harsh and deep and agonizingly good. He focused on the spot a bit to the left, and drowned himself in Sanji’s cries of pleasure. He fucked into Sanji and Sanji fucked right back down on him, giving him everything back with the same force, taking all of Zoro’s breath. 

 

“Oohh, god,  _ Zoro _ , harder!”

 

He grit his teeth, digging his feet into the mattress and compiled. Anything, anything Sanji wanted. Beautiful arms shook beside his neck, and Zoro rose up to his knees, keeping Sanji attached to him as he pulled him flush, groaning at all the skin against his. Sanji bit into his neck, tugged at his hair and Zoro  _ loved  _ it, he  _ loved  _ him. 

 

“Ah,  _ ah, ah! _ ”

 

The blonde was nearly screaming in his ear, breath burning and Zoro moved back just enough to swallow every kind of noise. He was getting so fucking close, and he wanted to fuck Sanji forever. He wanted to live in his goddamn skin. 

It couldn't last, though. Even as he slowed his pace, making Sanji whine and curse, fucking into him slow and deep. Sanji shuddered and shook through his release, Zoro’s mouth catching every long moan. Sanji caught his in return, holding the man against him as he thrust up and through his release. Their ogansms took them out of body, and Zoro couldn't fucking breath for a moment. When he returned to himself, trying to catch his breath, he lay kisses on Sanji’s flushed neck, listening to the other man’s gasping. He licked at the pale throat, rewarded with a soft groan and his hands tenderly moved across shoulders. With every breath Sanji took, Zoro felt their chests push together, and he wondered if there was anyone else in the world who could ever fit as well as Sanji did against him. If there was he never wanted to know. 

He pulled out slowly, laying Sanji down and falling next to him, pressing a last kiss to his brow, then another to his cheek, and still another to his neck. Sanji pet his hair, fingers slow and steady, and Zoro watched the smile on his lips out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Goddamn. And I thought fighting you made me sore.”

 

Zoro stifled a laugh, hiding his face in Sanji’s skin, pulling him even closer against his chest. 

 

“Too much?”

 

Zoro felt the cook’s chuckle in his chest and throat, the sound echoing out. 

 

“Are you kidding? We’re only just getting started, marimo.”

 

Zoro did laugh at that, a short rush of noise that might have been a little crazed sounding. He pulled himself up, moving to lean over Sanji with his limbs trapping him where he was. He drank his fill of the image Sanji gave, flushed and happy in the bed, fingers working their way up Zoro’s neck. His eyes burned in a familiar, challenging way. 

Zoro leaned down, closing his eyes as his lips found Sanji’s. He wondered if they could make it to three rounds, since that had always been his number.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bout time lmao   
> (sorry its all so cheesy in this chapter haha)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry Zeff cover your ears next time

  
  
  
  


Sanji woke up first, sunlight just touching the room through the window and adding shadows. His face was buried in warm skin, scarred over but still soft against his cheek. Large arms wrapped loosely around him, and the desire to stay there was immense. 

He gently removed himself from the embrace, sitting up on the bed to look down at the sleeping man. In the morning light Zoro was still beautiful, still someone wonderful. He was a little perfect, and it was all just too much for the morning hours. 

He was still a bit gross from last night, and sore in all sorts of places. The sheets would need to be replaced since there was no saving the tears that had occurred in round two, and the headboard was a little cracked from one of them doing something at one point. He’d have to do with a washrag for now and deal with the damages later. His duties as head chef didn’t just pause because now he was having sex with Zoro. 

He buried his flushed face in his hands, feeling a little smile tug at his lips. He was- happy. Zoro made him so  _ happy _ . He was living his dream on the All Blue and the world’s greatest swordsman was in his bed, soft and warm. Sanji had never once imagined this was what would make him rise from bed with a stupid smile on his face, but here he was, so fucking alive because Zoro was  _ his  _ and that was  _ amazing _ . 

He busied himself by dressing quickly, flustered and unable to settle down his heart, and hesitating at the door before darting back to the bed. He fidgeted quietly before bending down to kiss Zoro on the forehead, then the cheek, then the forehead again because he liked the way his green hair tickled his nose and-

 

“Mmm, s’morning?”

 

Sanji gave a small laugh, hand coming up to ruffle the soft green strands. A calloused hand touched his chin and ran down his neck, still sleep loose in movement. 

 

“Yeah, I’ll bring up some food in a bit.”

 

He moved to pull away but a hand yanked on his shirt, making the blonde move with it so the fabric didn't tear. He still couldn't stop smiling. 

 

“Stay.”

 

Zoro’s one good eye cracked open, looking up at Sanji with a gentle little look. Sanji ran his fingers over the bridge of his nose, his brows, his lips. He liked touching Zoro in the light, watching where his fingers fell. 

 

“I can't just stay in bed all day like some people, marimo. Got a ship to run, amazing food to make and all that.”

 

“...I could make you stay.”

 

Sanji laughed, highly amused as Zoro kept tugging at his clothes, trying and failing to undo the buttons on his shirt before giving up and just tugging at the fabric uselessly.  

 

“Go back to sleep, mosshead. You can impress me with your shitty attempts at seduction later.”

 

Zoro grumbled, but his hands slipped away from Sanji’s shirt. The cook leaned down to press another kiss to his brow, and was caught off guard as Zoro tilted his head quickly, making their lips connect. Sanji sighed into it, morning breath and all making him melt and smile. He pulled away before Zoro could take control, moving to a safe distance so he could retreat for now. He slipped out the door, catching the little smile on Zoro’s sleepy face. It made him feel brand new.

He had to shake himself outside the door, try to will away the light flush on his face and the stupid grin. He couldn't act the part of a competent captain while being all disgustingly dopey like this. He wasn't a teenager anymore for shits sake. He managed a few quick stretches, knowing he’d be aching for a while after a night like that. Zoro had been surprisingly gentle though, all things considered. For all the man’s brutishness and lack of grace, he had treated Sanji like something- not  _ fragile _ , but close. Something that should have come across demeaning or annoying really, but then again came the  _ knowing  _ Sanji had for Zoro. The knowing that he was being treated with respect, with  _ honor _ . 

He managed to enter the kitchens without the silly look on his face at least. Only a few looks were shared when he entered, which was hopefully about nothing. He was wearing clean clothes, his hair was neat, no reason to-

 

“You sure took your sweet time this morning, shitty eggplant.”

 

Sanji winced. That was, not a good tone. That was a very-much-pissed-off tone. Sanji carefully turned to get a look of the old man and yeah, he looked like  _ shit _ . 

 

“I woke up late, piss off.”

 

“Yeah, I'm sure you did.”

 

Sanji moved a bit closer, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. Zeff was glaring at him with a laser fine focus. 

 

“And what’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

 

A few of the closer chefs scrambled away quietly as Zeff took a purposeful step forward to poke Sanji in the chest, hard. 

 

“It  _ means _ , that your room is  _ right next to mine _ , shit-head.”

 

Sanji opened his mouth to curse right on back, and paused. The gears in his head came to a halt and a few horrifying things clicked into place. He felt himself pale and Zeff narrowed his eyes further. Oh  _ fuck _ . 

 

“You get it now? I’m too old to be losing my sleep over  _ that _ .”

 

Sanji was sure his face had switched from white to red so quickly he could have been a firework. His cheeks certainly felt hot enough to be one.

 

“I get it! Just  _ shut up _ !”

 

“Hmf.  _ You  _ sure didn’t.”

 

“OI!”

 

He heard a snicker from behind him and grabbed the nearest object, flinging it in that direction. He growled at Zeff, officially in a pissy enough mood to ruin his earlier mushiness. 

 

“Please, if the entire boat didn't hear what you were up to last night then at least half did. Either get the blueberry head to thicken the walls or go to the cellar, for fucks sake.”

 

“I  _ GET  _ IT! now kindly just  _ shut the fuck up _ ! And everyone  _ better  _ be working if I turn around!”

 

They were, thankfully, even if they all had carefully blank expressions that made Sanji want to kick all of their asses. Hell, he’d be lucky if he’d be able to look anyone in the eyes all fucking day after a show like that. He was trying to be a respectable leader for shits sake and that had been tossed right out the window for at  _ least  _ two days. He was tempted to relocate Zeff’s room to the god damn bottom of the ocean. He was tempted to relocate  _ himself  _ there. 

He got to work right away, only stopping to throw a pepper grinder and a butter knife at two younger chefs snickering in the corner. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro was having a great morning. Hell, he was probably having the best morning of his  _ life _ . 

He’d gotten to wake up to Sanji pressing kisses on him, smiling down at him so sweet with golden hair catching the morning light. He’d looked ethereal, and a part of Zoro still had doubts that he hadn't been a dream. The last time he had felt this good was when he had beaten Mihawk, and even then this was still something just on the side of  _ more _ . 

Sanji, bright and beautiful in his arms, glowing under him, sleeping next to him. Kissing him- being kissed  _ by  _ him, it was like he was being cut open and sewn together and the sun was stuck in his throat. He felt like he was finally  _ living _ . 

He got out of bed because he wouldn't be able to find sleep again and he didn't want to anyways. He wanted to see Sanji, to just  _ see  _ him and be able to touch his hand maybe, or at the very least catch his eye and catch his smile. He wanted to hold him close again but he knew he’d have to wait. Sanji had been right, about saying he had a ship to run. Time wouldn’t stand still for them just because they had finally seen eye to eye on the whole liking each other thing and had sex. But damn did Zoro want it to. He’d been wanting this for years and years now, and like any other starving man he wanted to indulge and gorge. He had to have restraint though. No good would come from driving Sanji crazy with overbearing emotions and selfishness. The last thing Zoro wanted to do was scare the cook away. 

He rubbed his face, trying to rub away the little grin on his face. He felt like such a kid, smiling to himself like a moron. The cook would’ve laughed at him if he could see how stupid he looked. The thought still couldn’t get rid of the smile though. He sighed, giving up on being anything other than a lovestruck fool and grabbing his pants off the floor. Sanji had folded them somehow at some point, and that brought a whole new wave of embarrassing giddiness in him. He shook himself, refusing to succumb to such ridiculousness. Time didnt fucking stop just because his crush was getting reciprocated, he had shit to do. 

Well, he didn't, really, but he always had fun scaring the shit out of other pirates and messing with Sanji’s crew, so maybe he could do that today. Mostly he just wanted to go see the cook, maybe tease him a bit, maybe kiss him a little. Or a lot. Depended on how busy he was. Considering how he hadn't brought food back upstairs he was probably busy, which was fine since Zoro was a big boy and could go get food himself. It was a shame though that he couldn't get the cook alone for awhile now.

He threw his jacket on and secured his swords to his hip before exiting the room, figuring he’d be needing a shower later too. He could hear a lot of noise coming from below, and hoped he wasn’t missing a fight. There shouldn't be too many customers so early on, so maybe the chefs were just going at it again. Sanji seemed fine with them beating the shit out of each other on occasion as long as it was limited to certain areas of the ship and stopped before it got serious. Zoro thought it was funny, mostly because to him it looked like kittens going at it, but also because some chefs just threw spices in each other's faces. 

 

“If you’re so god damn invested in TALKING rather than  _ COOKING _ than you can be on fucking DISHWASHING TODAY!!”

 

Yeah, Sanji sounded busy alright. Zoro backed away from the kitchen, deciding he’d let whatever that was cool down a bit-

 

“ _ You _ .”

 

Zoro started so badly he nearly didn't block the peg leg that came at his face. He wasn't used to be on the receiving end of Zeff’s wrath like this, and he didn't think he’d done anything that warranted it. Unless the last bottle he’s stolen from the cellar had been special or something. 

 

“Oi, wha-

 

“The last thing-the absolutely  _ last  _ thing I want to be hearing at god knows what hour is my  _ kid _ getting busy horizontal ways. That clear, kelp-head? Take it  _ elsewhere _ next time.”

 

Zeff stomped away, looked a little more haggard than usual and twice as pissy. Zoro stood with his jaw at his feet, face probably every color of red. He had completely forgotten Zeff slept in the room  _ right next to them _ . He could only pray that Sanji hadn’t gotten that particular call out by Zeff, since it’d be one hell of a mood killer. Which, would explain the yelling in the kitchen. Zoro sighed. They never were much for peacefulness anyways, it figured their relationship would be a bit on the crazy side, same as always. Zoro couldn’t say he minded. 

A few waiters passed him as he made his way to the kitchens, figuring he still needed breakfast. They carefully avoided his eye, which wasn’t a great sign, but whatever. The usual bustle of the kitchen seemed eerily quiet as he stepped inside, noting a few quick looks and whispers. He shot a glare at one man who was full on staring, and he paled before returning to his work. Quite a few chefs were just, staring at him.  

 

“DOES EVERYONE HERE WANT DISHWASHING DUTY!? GET BACK TO  _ WORK _ !”

 

There was a loud thud as Sanji actually sent one guy flying, making Zoro duck to avoid collision as he went sailing out the door. A chorus of  _ yes head-chef _ followed, and Sanji marched towards Zoro, plates in hand and red faced. 

 

“Uh-

 

“Just shut up and take the plate.”

 

Zoro did as told, following quietly behind the cook to an empty table. They passed a disturbingly still Mihawk, eyes slowly following them like a haunted painting, but Zoro figured that was a whole other issue to deal with later. Sanji sure seemed hell bent on ignoring the man at least, and that worked fine for Zoro. 

Sanji threw his plate down and started eating in silence. Zoro shrugged and did the same, since poking at Sanji when he was like this was a sure way to get a foot in his face. He still got to eat with the cook, and that was a win.

By the time they were done eating and Sanji was sipping coffee, his mood seemed to have shifted from murderous to annoyed. Zoro decided to risk it. 

 

“So the old man cornered you too?”

 

Sanji blushed and gave Zoro a look that confirmed he had definitely been cornered. He groaned, a hand fisting in his yellow hair as he let out a low string of curses. He put his cup down and gave Zoro an embarrassed look. The swordsman thought it was kind of endearing. 

 

“What’d the geezer say to you?”

 

Zoro shrugged, earning a small kick to his ankle. 

 

“He just kinda- said take it somewhere else next time.”

 

Sanji grimaced, looking sullenly at his cup. 

 

“Well, could be worse, I guess. Hopefully he goes and takes a nap and comes back less an asshole.”

 

Zoro watched him fiddle with his fork. He felt nervous, because Sanji cared about what Zeff though. A  _ lot _ . Even if he didn't want to admit it, the cook wanted the old man to be proud of him, which Zoro could understand. Getting embarrassed like this wasn't a great start, and he worried about Sanji hightailing it because of it. 

 

“Would you wanna-somewhere else? I mean-

 

He took a breath, feeling his cheeks burn as Sanji looked over at him. He stared intently at the table cloth.

 

“I mean, could there be-uh, a next time?”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward. He glanced back at Sanji, the man sporting a deep blush. Zoro felt his own blush rise in reaction. He had to look away again. 

Light fingers climbed up his cheek, brushing his earrings. When he looked up again Sanji was leaning into his space, placing a soft kiss on his chin. The kiss climbed like his fingers, brushing against Zoro’s lips and he pressed back eagerly. 

When Sanji pulled back they were both a little breathless and still red-faced, and Zoro couldn't help but smile. He just wasn't over the surprise he felt when Sanji kissed him. 

 

“Franky can make the walls soundproof or something. Until then we can just-try to be quiet.”

 

Zoro grinned, leaning his forehead against Sanji’s. Sanji’s hand made his earrings chime. 

 

“What if I don't  _ want  _ you to be quiet?”

 

Sanji shoved the hand in his face, pushing him away and laughing. 

 

“You jump from shy to brash just like that, huh?”

 

Zoro stuck his tongue out, licking Sanji’s hand a bit and the cook recoiled in disgust. Zoro just laughed. 

 

“Well now that I know you’re interested, no point in being subtle is there?”

 

Sanji wiped at his hand, wrinkling his nose at it. He gave Zoro a flat look after tossing the dirty napkin aside. 

 

“Right, how could I forget who I was talking to. Do you even  _ know  _ how to flirt?”

 

Zoro thought about that. He’d been  _ trying  _ to flirt with Sanji for over 5 years. Either he was really bad at it or the cook was that dense. It was a safe bet that it was a bit of both. 

 

“Do you  _ want  _ me to flirt with you?”

 

“I’m pretty sure you flirting just includes picking a fight.”

 

Zoro shrugged. That wasn’t too far off.

 

“I like fighting with you.”

 

Sanji hummed, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket, but thinking better of it and tucking it back away. He’d been doing it less and less, but there was something about Sanji smoking that completed the picture in Zoro’s head. All those fights they’d been in where Sanji lit one up when the going got tough and they were bleeding all over the place. He missed that. 

 

“Tell me what you like about fighting with me.”

 

Zoro eyed him. Sanji was giving him a lazy look, something like mischief in his eyes. 

 

“...Why?”

 

Sanji fiddled with his tie, brushing against the silk and smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Zoro watched the movement of his long fingers. 

 

“Consider it a lesson in proper flirting. Make me swoon, marimo.”

 

Zoro snorted, but couldn't deny that he liked the way the smile on Sanji’s face fit. He looked bright, like he was coming alive and returning to their morning together. It was just them, opening up. What did Zoro have to lose by giving Sanji a bit of his honest feelings when he was trying to work towards that anyways?

 

“Alright. Well first, I like seeing how flexible you are. It’s pretty hot.”

 

Sanji let out a small puff of laughter, raising an eyebrow at the swordsman. 

 

“I’ve only heard that about a million times. Keep trying.”

 

Zoro could imagine. Anyone taking a nice look at Sanji would be interested, but add his flexibility and you’ve got all sorts of bedroom scenarios. Not that Zoro liked other people imagining Sanji like that, but he couldn't exactly blame them. 

 

“I like knowing that I don't have to hold back. You’re strong enough that I can push myself by pushing you.”

 

Zoro waited for a response. There was a faint blush high on the cook’s cheeks from that, and Zoro smiled. 

 

“...That all?”

 

Zoro’s smile widened. 

 

“I like pushing you to your limit. When you’re all bruised and roughed up and you got that look in your eye, the one that’s like ‘that all you got?’. I lo-really like it. You’re stubborn as hell, you’ll meet me head on. You’re a challenge.”

 

They were both sporting blushes now. Zoro didn’t mean to make it sound so- intimate. He went a little past flirting, diving into a bit of how he really felt about Sanji at his core. It was dangerous there. He wanted to push it just as much as he could.

 

“You’re kinda beautiful when you go all out in a fight, and I’m not sure how to say why. It’s like, your whole body is this clean cut weapon, you even dress it up in a suit. Every part of you is a tool you have complete control over and that’s...beautiful.”

 

He thumbed the hilt of Wado, focusing on the strands of Sanji’s hair playing in the breeze. He felt embarrassed again, all his bravado gone to shit because he ended up going that much deeper again. He  _ wanted  _ Sanji to know, though. He wanted Sanji to be able to see himself as Zoro saw him; as something impossibly powerful and desired. 

 

“I...don’t know how to respond to that.”

 

Zoro flicked his eye over to Sanji, cheeks red and eyes turned down. He looked younger, more open and prone. 

 

“You don't have to. I just wanted you to know that stuff.”

 

Sanji took a breath, taking a small sip from his coffee cup. He met Zoro’s eye and gave him a small smile, genuine and vulnerable. He seemed to be looking for something in Zoro’s face. 

 

“...Thank you.”

 

Zoro nodded. He’d always wanted to be the mirror Sanji couldn’t see. Maybe he could be that now.

He leaned over the table, stealing a chaste kiss for no other reason than that he wanted to.

  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO sorry i have been ridiculously busy with work shit so i dont know how soon the next chapter can be pumped out but i promise im still going! this did actually end up being way WAY longer than originally expected but eh things happen? anyways comments are always read and appreciated and everyone is amazing and im so sorry im a shit responder!!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this round its Zoro-0 and Zeff-1  
> The round goes to Zeff

  
  
  


“So I take it things have been resolved within your romantic pursuit.” 

 

Zoro almost dropped the boxes he was moving and nearly bit his tongue off keeping his body language calm. What the fuck was with old men sneaking up on people? He placed the cargo down and turned to glare at MIhawk. 

 

“If I say yes will you go back to being a hermit in your stupid castle?” 

 

Mihawk blinked slowly, like a bored snake. 

 

“Possibly. Perona has already departed, claiming she couldn't handle the noise levels in the evening.”

 

Zoro groaned, for once glad Sanji wasn't beside him. The cook had run back to the kitchen to work twice as hard on lunch prep, since Zeff had seen fit to remind the blonde of his absence at dinner duty the previous night. Zoro had been left to a still pissy Zeff who demanded he go be useful and unload a grain shipment. 

 

“So then is it correct to assume you’ll be taking residence here? Developing your skills in…cargo handling?”

 

Zoro crossed his arms, eyeing Mihawk. He didn't look angry like he had when he first arrived, more curious if anything.  _ Bored old men _ , Zoro thought. He was surrounded by bored old men. 

 

“As long as the cook’s here, I’m here. That a problem?”

 

Mihawk continued to watch him, his eyes open and calculating but not uncaring. Zoro wouldn't pretend that the man before him was heartless, despite being cold. 

 

“The weight we bare can only be done so alone. No one else will understand, and this must be accepted.”

 

Zoro looked at the unsteady cracks of the black longsword, then wado. Heavy, heavy things, bearing a life. He regarded his old teacher evenly, standing as his equal. It had become comfortable to view Mihawk as nearly inhuman in ways. He was a man, yes, but lived so separately from others, so bathed in solitude- his humanity only left echoes at this point. There was no way to imagine him as a laughing child or inexperienced teenager. There had never even been the concept of Mihawk, a person who knew loss and pain and had a heart torn all the way apart. 

There had never been a Mihawk surrounded by Luffy, Sanji, and all the others. 

He had never had a Kuina. 

 

“Weight can always be shared.”

 

It was only now, aging and somewhat  _ defeated _ , that Mihawk suddenly seemed human. It was such a sobering realization that the man before him was capable of imperfection. He looked at Zoro like he thought he knew everything, and for the first time Zoro doubted him. 

 

“Not this one. You will come to understand.”

 

_ You don't know my nakama _

 

“I’ll prove you wrong them.”

 

Mihawk smirked, eyes closing. He walked passed Zoro, giving neither acceptance nor denial to the words.

 

“Be aware, Roronoa. The next wave of pirates will make their way into our world sooner than you think.”

 

Zoro glanced at Mihawk's sword again, enormous and dying.

 

“I’ll be ready.”

 

Mihawk walked further down the docks, mouth turned up in a tiny grin. They didn't share one last look or a goodbye, mostly because Mihawk was strange as hell, but it also just wasn't like them. They’d either see each other at some future point or one of them would die, and that was just life as the greatest swordsmen. Zoro picked up the boxes again, moving to stack them with the others, looking up at the large ship where he essentially lived now. 

He felt nostalgic, because if he squinted the newer boat could have basically been the old Baratie, and he’d had such life changing events happen all that time ago in that place. Hell, it had been before the grand line itself, with Nami running away into her own trauma and Zoro bleeding out while some asshole young cook fell into their lives. 19 year old Zoro would be pissed off to hell if he knew his future self was a lovestruck fool who thought about the past. 

The next wave of pirates though. He’d only briefly thought about that, but they’d be on their way in life, wouldn't they? And Zoro would want to be here, with the cook, but doing what? Sanji’s dream was a continuation without end, like how Nami’s map would take many more years to complete and even then always have parts to edit. Zoro was the only one in a lull of sorts, where it felt like a waiting game. Maybe that was why Mihawk had been so ruthless and bored; he had just been waiting. Zoro silently thanked Luffy for all he had done, making sure he wasn't alone the way Mihawk was. 

Zoro stretched, leaning back against the boxes and closing his eye. He wasn't worried about the future that much at the moment. He had his title, he had Sanji, he was happy. Maybe he’d even call Nami to gloat.  _ Maybe _ . He kinda wanted to tell  _ all  _ his nakama, as if to say  _ look at my happiness, I am sharing it with you. _ He wanted to tell Robin that she’d been right, tell Usopp thanks for lending an ear, Luffy for his support. 

He got up and wandered to the ship’s deck, sitting in a back table by himself, just watching. A waiter brought him warm bread, and somehow he knew it was right from Sanji’s hands, like an almost kiss. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Sanji hummed as he worked. As it turned out, releasing pent up sexual tension with Zoro did wonders for his cooking. After the kitchen settled down to normal levels, Sanji found himself working with a perfect flow and relaxed shoulders. Zeff had disappeared to nap at some point, and everything just felt  _ good _ . 

It’d been a while since he hadn't been stressed with work. It was easy to feel rushed and overworked with the restaurant, but with his chefs coming into their own and gaining skill, he was able to fall back a little. He didn't have to babysit any of them anymore, and there was this  _ grace _ to the establishment that had taken years to build. It made Sanji’s chest swell with pride.

It was funny to Sanji that he and Zoro getting together seemed to fall into place so easily. It made him wonder if they had always been moving in this direction, always having needed to get under each other’s skin in some new way. It was pretty nice that Sanji could openly call Zoro his friend as well, since they  _ had  _ been friends but it wasn't something to acknowledge really. 

A waiter walked in with Zoro’s empty bread basket, and Sanji signaled him over to give him a small tray of onigiri with a bowl of the beef soup. The waited slipped away to deliver the lunch, and Sanji smiled. He had always found pleasure in feeding people, and especially feeding his nakama, but giving Zoro the food he made now seemed much more intimate in a very special way. Sanji didn't know if they were lovers or what, but the fact remained that the relationship was there, still shifting, and feeding Zoro was a way of expressing his affection. 

 

“Head-chef?”

 

Sanji turned, looking at the waiter. The man had returned, holding Zoro’s lunch. Sanji frowned at the food.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

The waiter held out the food, offering it to Sanji.

 

“The swordsman says he’ll only accept it if you bring it to him.”

 

Sanji blanched. He took the tray robotically, the waiters moving away quickly. Sanji turned to look out the window, only just able to see Zoro sitting with his arms crossed at a table. Sanji could feel a vein throb at Zoro being the demanding ass he was. Since when did he think he could get away with asking for special service? The head-chef turned to flick off the heat from his stove before marching out the door, intent on giving the marimo a reality check. 

Sanji nodded at a few customers as he passed, a few star-struck faces and loyal admirers of cuisine. He was sure by now word had reached every corner of the world that the new greatest swordsman happened to be on the same boat as the pirate king’s cook, so it wasn't a shock to note a few poorly disguised reporters dining as well. He looked ahead to Zoro’s table and nearly tripped, caught off guard at the small smile directed at him. 

It was just- Sanji hadn't even known Zoro  _ could  _ smile like that. At least not before now, when suddenly Sanji seemed to be privy to a lot of things about Zoro. How had he known the man for so long and never witnessed this kind of softness? Or had he chosen unconsciously to not see it- to not know this Roronoa Zoro?

Sanji had to shake himself a little, putting the plate on the table and reminding himself that he had come to give the marimo a piece of his mind, not compliments. 

 

“I’m  _ busy _ , y’know. I can't just serve you whenever  _ you _ damn well want.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“I mean, I’m the head-chef for fucks sake! I have to run the whole goddamn kitchen!”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And I have a reputation to keep up, I can't just  _ leave _ because  _ you _ -

 

“Cook.”

 

“Don't interrupt me! I’ve got over 200 orders to take care of so-

 

Zoro yanked on the tie, bringing Sanji down to eye level for their lips to connect. Sanji remained still for 2 seconds, contemplating kicking the man’s face in, but melted into the kiss instead. Zoro was warm and smelled a bit like the oak barrels, with hair spiked from the salt in the air. Sanji still wanted to take the time to marvel over the available skin presented to him, but he refrained, pulling back. He’d get his chance later.

 

“You sure bruise easy.”

 

Zoro touched the side of Sanji’s neck, peeling away the shirt fabric near the shoulder. The cook flushed, having forgotten that he’d been sporting a few rather large hickies under his button-up. Zoro smirked at him, still close enough for Sanji to feel his heat. 

 

“I do  _ not _ . You just wanted to leave marks.”

 

Zoro’s hand continued to brush along the skin of Sanji’s neck, fingers dancing over to his throat. Sanji swallowed, letting the hands brush against the motion. 

 

“When are you done with the shift?”

 

Sanji became aware that he was awkwardly leaning over the table into Zoro’s space, the man still holding his tie loosely like he wanted to keep pulling Sanji in. They were out in broad daylight on the open deck and it wasn't  _ shameful  _ or anything like that, but privacy was preferred over giving some kind of show. Sanji pulled his tie away, and Zoro let him. 

 

“It’s not even 2pm yet, moron. I need to work the dinner shift later.”

 

Zoro put his chin in his hand, a smirk still playing on his face and pissing Sanji off. 

 

“That didn't answer the question, curly.”

 

“I’m not abandoning my chefs just because your libido has come back to bite you in the ass.”

 

Zoro’s smirk dropped comically. Sanji picked it up and gave it to himself, amused. 

 

“Maybe I just wanted to spar, pervert cook.”

 

“Uh huh. I know how marimos flirt.”

 

Zoro’s cheeks turned red, and Sanji grinned, feeling triumphant. The swordsman leaned back, crossing his arms and pouting.

 

“Isn't the point of being captain so you can get other assholes to do the work?”

 

Sanji pulled out a chair, spinning it and popping down next to Zoro. The marimo turned his head away childishly, reaching for a rice ball to stuff in his mouth. Sanji huffed, highly entertained by the ridiculousness of Zoro’s immaturity. 

 

“There’s only so much I can leave the others in charge of, mosshead. But I suppose I can give myself a break to entertain a lonely bit of plant life.”

 

Zoro grunted, mostly intent on ignoring Sanji in favor of stuffing his face and pouting. Sanji reaching into his pocket, procuring his daily cigarette and giving himself his vice. He knew Zoro was watching from the corner of his eye, and the cook purposefully lit up slowly, sucking on the filter with just a tiny bit extra show. He leaned over, sensing the sudden tension in Zoro’s back, and breathed out the smoke right in the man’s ear. 

 

“Y’know, I don't know if I can spar with you anymore without getting turned on.”

 

Zoro choked on the onigiri, rice falling on the floor. Sanji ignored the wasted food in favor of watching Zoro’s ears burn. He took another drag of his cigarette, smiling to himself. 

 

“Cook-you-

 

Zoro thumped his chest, red faced from coughing and embarrassment. Sanji blew out the smoke in his face this time.

  
“Well it's only natural that getting pinned down by you now would remind me of how you hemmmmf-

 

Zoro clamped a hand over his mouth, and Sanji raised a brow at him, proud of his own composure. He was having a good deal of fun, same as he always had when riling Zoro up. Judging by the fact that there was nearly steam coming out of the marimo’s ears, Sanji would say he had won this round. 

 

“You’re a real bastard, you know.”

 

Sanji shrugged, unable to speak. Zoro released his hand, watching Sanji warily with a flush still high on his cheeks. Sanji calmly took another drag, smirking with his eyes still fixed on Zoro. 

 

“What, too much for you? You seemed pretty into it last night.”

 

Zoro growled low, and Sanji felt a little thrill go up his spine. He wasn't lying about getting turned on by fighting Zoro, since now it had all sorts of possible endings to go with a good exercise. There was something absolutely intoxicating about getting held down by someone so powerful, and even more fun was guoding the other man into doing it. 

 

“Careful cook. I could throw you over my shoulder right now and take you somewhere below deck.”

 

“Would you even know which direction to go?”

 

Another growl. Sanji chuckled around his cigarette, watching Zoro flip between aroused and annoyed.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Only if you ask nicely.”

 

Sanji leapt to his feet, avoiding the swing of a blade and laughing aloud. He trotted back to the kitchen, smiling away. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro felt like he could safely say his new favorite hobby was kissing Sanji.

Sanji seemed pretty keen on it too based on his reciprocation, and the noises he made. Currently he was sitting in Zoro’s lap, hands still damp from cleaning up after dinner, tilting the swordsman face this way and that for better angles. Zoro let him, knowing that Sanji enjoyed having control over a situation, and it probably translated to the bedroom. Zoro was fine with that, since he’d be sure to figure out all the buttons he could press to get Sanji under him. Until them he was more than happy with the current situation. 

Zoro pulled the cook further into his lap, close enough that he could feel his arousal. Sanji made a choked noise and bit at Zoro’s lips, pulling back. 

 

“Oi, no noise, remember?”

 

Sanji gestured to the wall, and Zoro assumed Zeff was right there on the other side trying to sleep. He huffed, pressing his face into Sanji’s pale neck and licking at the skin. Sanji gave a tiny groan and Zoro smiled. 

 

“I’m not the loud one here.”

 

He got a kick to his side for the comment. 

 

“It doesn't matter if I’m- _ oh _ .”

 

Sanji covered his mouth with his hands quickly, glaring as Zoro palmed him through his pants. Zoro gave a shit eating grin, moving his hand slowly on the cook. Sanji made a small noise behind his hands before moving one down to retaliate, typical Sanji fashion. Zoro grunted as the cook slipped his hand down the front of his pants, but other than that stayed quiet. Sanji was having a harder time. 

 

“Heh, you  _ are _ loud.”

 

Sanji made a noise suspiciously like a  _ fuck you _ from behind his hand, and Zoro uncurled the fingers there, replacing the hand with his mouth. It didn't really stifle the noises that much, but if Zeff heard anything he couldn’t honestly just fuck off. Sanji pulled away from the kiss panting and Zoro picked up the pace with his hand. Sanji glared again.

 

“You- _ ah _ -shut up!”

 

“You gonna make me, shit-cook?”

 

Sanji’s eyes flashed, and Zoro felt a spike of arousal in his gut. Slowly, the cook reached for Zoro’s free hand, removing it from his hip and dragging it up until he had two of Zoro’s fingers in his mouth. Zoro shuddered, feeling the hand in his pants wrap more firmly around his member while Sanji sucked on his fingers. He bucked his hips up, intending to get more friction and jostle the cook a little, accidentally making the bed creak loudly. The fingers popped out of Sanji’s mouth as he gave Zoro a disapproving look. 

 

“Do you even-

 

_ THUD _

They froze, the blush on Sanji’s face fading into sheet white. Both heads turned towards the wall. 

_ THUD THUD _

They looked at each other, wide eyed and horrified. Sanji rolled off Zoro like the devil was at his heels, throwing the covers around himself. 

 

“So I’m tired, are you tired? I think we’re both probably  _ very _ tired.”

 

Zoro stared at the blanket lump of Sanji, then the wall. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face before flopping backwards. He waited a good three seconds before rolling on his side and getting under the covers as well, carefully scooting closer to the cook. When he didn't get kicked away he wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into the soft hair and grumbling. 

 

“If you don't call Franky tomorrow, I will.”

 

Sanji huffed, some of the hair by his face fluttering up and tickling Zoro’s skin. 

 

“Go the fuck to sleep, marimo.”

 

Zoro sighed again, pushing his nose against the back of Sanji’s neck. He gave it a small bite, shuffling a bit so he could move to the side of the cook’s neck, his hand slipping under Sanji’s night shirt-

 

“I SAID GO TO SLEEP, MARIMO!”

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff and jealousy and fluff again and one unhelpful cyborg

  
  


Zoro woke up as Sanji rose from the bed, and immediately latched onto the slimmer man’s waist.

 

“Where’re ya goin?”

 

Zoro wasn't awake enough to register much other than _Sanji_ and _leaving_ and those two things weren’t appreciated at all. He heard Sanji chuckle, low in a sleep-scratched voice. 

 

“This thing called ‘work’, marimo. I’m sure it's a confusing concept for you.”

 

Too many words, not enough kissing. Zoro pushed himself up as he pulled Sanji down, missing his mouth on the first go but letting the kiss on his cheek linger. He could tell Sanji was smiling. 

 

“Call Franky, yeah?”

 

“Is that really your main concern?” 

 

Zoro pulled back, blinking at Sanji's weirdly cute nose. Since when were noses even cute?

 

“...Yeah?” 

 

“Pervert marimo.”

 

“Are you gonna call him or not?”

 

Sanji laughed, ducking to finally give Zoro the kiss he wanted. The cook squawked as Zoro wrapped his arms more securely around the man and tossed them both back into the bed. Zoro kissed him thoroughly, content at the little noises Sanji made. Zoro wondered if they had time for anything more than making out, and he hummed against Sanji’s lips. Sanji pulled away, panting. 

 

“I gotta help with the breakfast prep, shitty swordsman.”

 

Zoro licked at the hollow of his throat, getting a groan in response. 

 

“Zeff’s room is probably empty right now then.”

 

Zoro could practically _hear_ Sanji’s reluctance to go. All he had to do was push a little more…

 

“Let me touch you, _Sanji_.”

 

Zoro took victory in the gasp the cook gave. He pushed Sanji back into the mattress, kneeling above him. He shoved Sanji’s shirt up, immediately kissing a train down to his navel, using his teeth to gently nip at the skin there. It was nice to have the light of day to see Sanji by, to notice all the little marks on his skin and the deepness of the flush. 

 

“You’re- _shit_ -a manipulative bastard.”

 

Zoro grinned up at the cook, showing all his teeth as he started tugging down Sanji’s pants. 

  


-oOo-

  


Sanji ended up joining the rest of his crew just in time for the first breakfast shift. Zeff gave him a look, but luckily no words or threats were exchanged, so Sanji figured he was safe for now. Zoro was probably back to being passed out in bed, no doubt quite pleased with himself.

Sanji would have never guessed that Zoro would be so _into_ sex, but he sure as fuck wasn't complaining. He was feeling desired, which wasn't very uncommon, but somehow it was much more a compliment coming from Zoro, much more encouraging and something _else_ . It was being desired _by Zoro_ that seemed to awaken an equally fierce desire in Sanji, and it brought a nearly distracting _need_ to be with the man. Sanji just couldn't help himself from gorging on the bounty that Zoro was offering to him, and damn the man because he _knew_ what he was doing!

Sanji went through the breakfast shift smoothly, trying to keep his mind out of the gutter. He really _did_ need to call Franky, he just wasn't sure what the fuck he’d say. It was hard to subtly explain _hey Zoro and I are bangning it out but the walls are too thin so could you do something about that buddy?_ And he didn't trust Zoro to phrase it any better. 

That also brought up the nakama issue. Well, not _issue_ so much as delema about mentionting the fact that _he and Zoro were having sex_. Would everyone be ok with it? Would they think it was weird? Well, it was a little weird, but beside the point. If he and Zoro continued on, it would most likely not remain a secret due to the nature of the whole crew. Sanji couldn't quite figure out how he felt about them knowing. 

Not that it really _did_ matter right now because everything was still pretty new. They were basically just causal fuck buddies (lovers? Nakama with benefits?) anyways, since Zoro wasn't romantic in the least. He sure as hell wasn't going to go at Zoro looking for some sweet gesture, since Zoro would probably just laugh at him or some shit and wow, ok, that kind of stung. 

Sanji couldn't help it; he was a romantic. He loved the heart shaped bullshit through and through. He adored weddings, anniversaries, celebrations of love, you name it. He saw dates happen all the time on his restaurant, and he ate that shit up. He _loved_ a good romance. 

He’d always, _always_ wanted one of his own. 

He shook his head, moving out to the deck to help the waiters and check on customers. He wasn't even sure why he was thinking about those things. He was definitely overthinking it all, that was for sure. Right now he was having fun with Zoro, things were good, end of story. 

 

“Blackleg Sanji!”

 

Sanji started, turning to a man a few tables away. The man wasn't familiar, but he looked absolutely _thrilled_ to see Sanji for some reason. _Maybe a fan or something?_ Bartho or whatever and his crew stopped by every now and then, so who knew. 

The man skittered around tables, practically running over to the head-chef. Sanji reached out with his haki, preparing himself just in case the guy was some dumbass psycho looking for a fight. The guy came to a stop right in from of Sanji.

 

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for you!”

 

Sanji sighed. The universe had a shit sense of humor sometimes. 

  


-oOo-

  
  


“What’s going on now?”

 

Zoro didn't get a response from any of the chefs huddled by the available portholes other than a few good shushes. Everyone in the kitchens had turned off the burners and were entirely focused on something happening outside on the main deck, including Zeff himself. Said man gave Zoro a head jerk, which was read as a _get the fuck over here_ head movement. Zoro shrugged and walked over, glad he wasn't getting shit from the old man that morning and figuring his breakfast relied on his obedience at the moment. 

Zoro squeezed himself by the old man, a few of the other cooks reluctantly moving aside. He took a good look out, but didn't really see much happening other than people eating. Not even a single dead person. Pretty boring in all honesty. 

 

“What? There’s n-

 

“Shut up and look at table 4.”

 

Zoro shut up and looked at table 4, but he didn't really know where the hell table 4 was so he looked at all of them. People eating, people eating, people eating and drinking, some old people eating, and-

Well fuck.

 

“Well fuck.”

 

Zeff nodded, remaining silent with the room. Times like this Zoro really wished he still had both eyes because he was sure he was seeing shit. Across the many tables at what was probably table 4, it _looked_ like the shit-cook was standing over a man down on one knee, with a suspiciously specific little box open.

 

“Is that-

 

“Yup.”

 

Zoro wasn't sure whether to laugh or break the wall honestly. 

 

“Does this sorta thing happen often?”

 

A few chefs chuckled. Zoro looked to Zeff, who was rubbing his forehead like he was trying to erase an oncoming headache. 

 

“More often than it's _supposed_ to happen, that’s for sure. We could probably buy a new boat if he kept all the rings.”

 

A loud crack brought all mouths closed and eyes front, and Zoro let out a burst of laughter at the sight of the previously kneeling man flat on his back. Sanji still had his leg extended, and the smoke drifting up signaled a less than great mood. A few chefs joined in on the laughter. 

 

“Damn, would have loved to hear what he said to the cook.”

 

Zoro could only imagine the shit the man had said, but everything in his head made him laugh harder. Did the guy even know Sanji? Or had he just shown up and pulled out the ring, pretending it was love at first sight bullshit. Both options were pretty funny. 

 

“Shouldn't you be taking notes then, matcha head?”

 

Zoro stopped laughing as several chefs started. A few daring ones clapped their hands on his shoulder, chuckling at his situation. He didn't find it amusing, but he figured his face said that well enough. He didn't have any good response to that, and Zeff looked far too pleased with himself. 

There was an abrupt shuffle and suddenly everyone was moving back to their stations besides Zeff and Zoro. A moment later the door slammed open. 

 

“Why are the orders for table 7 and 10 not out yet?”

 

Sanji did indeed look more pissy than usual. He narrowed his eyes at Zeff and Zoro, before slowly moving his gaze across the quiet room. No one dared to speak, and Zoro watched as the cook slowly walked over to one of the stoves, shoes clacking purposefully on the floor. 

 

“Why. Is. This. Burner. _Off_?”

 

“Why’d you say no?”

 

Zeff elbowed the swordsman in the gut with surprising force as Sanji spun around, laser focusing on Zoro. A light tinting of pink dusted his ears. 

 

“What the fuck did you say?”

 

“Well was the ring shitty?”

 

Damn was the old man’s elbow sharp. 

Sanji stared at Zoro like he’d grown a third head and a devil fruit user _wasn't_ the cause. Most chefs had given up pretending to work, looking wide eyed at each other or the cook. 

 

“Wha- were you _watching_?”

 

Zoro shrugged, enjoying the color creeping up Sanji’s face. He gave the cook a smirk.

 

“Does Nami know you’re turning down free rings, cook?”

 

A chef snickered from the corner and Sanji threw a frying pan at his head. Sanji turned back to Zoro, hand still extended with a murderous glare. 

 

“Last I checked the kitchen was for chefs _only_ , not shitty swordsmen who spew bullshit.”

 

A few chefs had smartly gotten back to work, the others remaining in rapt attention along with Zeff, watching the exchange with interest. Zeff raised his eyebrow meaningfully at Zoro, as if to say _you asked for this shit_. 

 

“Whatever. Just as long as-

 

The door burst open, and Zoro wiped his head to the side to watch as the man from earlier dripped blood on the floor, eyes wide and desperately fixed on the cook. 

 

“Sanji-san I-

 

Zoro felt something harsh and loud bubble up in his throat, and before he was fully aware of what he was doing a sword was lodged deep in the wood, just barely skinning the edge of the man's shoe. 

 

“ _Leave_.”

 

The word left his mouth in a growl, deep and feral. He didn't need to stare down the man, he did as instructed, running away with his tail between his legs on shakky feet. He was spineless, and Zoro wanted to cut the man in half just for the presumption of entering the cook’s domain. As if someone so pathetic should be allowed even near a man like Sanji. 

Zoro resheathed the sword, turning back to the cook and freezing at the confusing smirk painting Sanji’s mouth.

 

“Well, well, _well_. Who would’ve thought.”

 

Zoro glared as best he could while fighting a blush. He wasn't keen on Sanji’s mocking tone. 

 

“Thought _what_.”

 

Sanji took slow steps forward, hands on his hips with a shit-eating grin. He poked Zoro in the chest when he got close enough.

 

“Marimo’s _jealous._ ”

 

Zoro swiped at the cooks hand, feeling the blush win against his own will. He glanced around, glaring at anyone he could. _Jealous_ . As if he could feel any emotion for some nameless asshole. It wasn't like Sanji gave a shit about the guy anyways, so it was _stupid_. 

 

“As if. Just gimme some breakfast.”

 

Sanji leaned back, grin still prominent on his dumb handsome face. 

 

“Sure, sure. Maybe I should get something for the other guy too though, make sure he’s ok. Of course, you wouldn't _mind_ , would you?”

 

Zoro glared hard at the cook, body coiled tight. He managed to unclench his teeth long enough to reply. 

 

“Like I care.”

 

Sanji didn't reply. He turned, the damn grin still on his face, marching over to grab a tray of scones. He filled a plate with them, placing butter and jam on a second platter, walking back over to Zoro. 

 

“I’ll need you to move, marimo. Y’know, so I can bring these to him. Maybe I’ll sit down, get his name, who knows.”

 

There was silence as Zoro clenched and unclenched his fists. His foot twitched, and in Zoro’s head it went smoothly with him moving and the cook leaving and then the cook coming _back_ but-

He couldn't move. His body wouldn't move and Sanji’s smile only got bigger and that other asshole was _still out there and-_

 

“You gonna move or what?”

 

Zoro crossed his arms, and he could see the exact moment in Sanji’s face when the cook knew he had won. Zoro grabbed a scone.

 

“Fuck you.”

  
Sanji laughed all the way back to the oven, and Zoro sat down by the door, ears burning as he ate the scone. 

He sat by the door for 2 more hours, just to be safe. 

  


-oOo-

  


“You get offers like that a lot?”

 

Sanji paused his petting of Zoro’s hair, looking down at the man’s face. He had thought the swordsman had passed out on his lap, dozing in his usual late morning nap while Sanji relaxed against the wall. No one would bother them where they were, tucked behind empty crates on the shipment dock. 

 

“Mmm, maybe.”

 

Zoro turned his head, nuzzling into Sanji’s stomach like a giant cat. The moment breakfast shift was done, the mosshead had all but carried the cook away, seemingly hell bent on getting alone time. Sanji wouldn't say he was against it. 

 

“You really didn't know that guy?”

 

“Nope. Just some asshole with a ring. Most of ‘em are.”

 

There was silence again, and Sanji wondered if this time Zoro had actually gone to sleep. He was turned over enough that only his scared over eye was visible, his breath pushing at the fabric of Sanji’s shirt. 

 

“Cook-”

 

Zoro cut himself off, falling back into silence. Sanji’s smile dropped, and his fingers continued to run gently through Zoro’s hair. 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

Sanji pinched at his cheek. 

 

“Say it.”

 

“No.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“Hell no.”

 

“Well fuck you.”

 

“Fuck _you_.”

 

Sanji leaned back, hands flopping the side. He glared down at Zoro, looking peaceful in his lap. 

 

“Are you actually jealous?”

 

Sanji didn't know if he’d get an answer or not, but he watched the swordsman carefully. After a minute Zoro sighed heavily, turning his face back enough to look at Sanji with his good eye. 

 

“I don't wanna share you, ok?”

 

Sanji felt his cheeks flush red, matching the dark tint to Zoro’s. He hadn't been expecting that, and it was- it was a little _sweet_ in a strange way. Zoro flicked his eye away and back, looking vulnerable with his head on Sanji’s lap.

 

“...ok.”

 

Zoro looked at him, cheeks still red and endearing.

 

“...yeah?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, hell, it's not like I was gonna run off with that asshole anyways, you know that right? He probably just wanted me for my food anyways, the shit-head. Not that I’d blame him though.”

 

Zoro chuckled, the vibrations running through Sanji’s legs. Sanji joined in, the idea of himself sailing away with some unknown man appalling and hilarious. 

 

“Sounds like he’d get along with Luffy.”

 

Sanji made a face. 

 

“Luffy would marry a piece of meat if he could.”

 

“Luffy would probably just marry _you_ for the meat.”

 

“Wouldn't that mean there’d be two pirate kings?”

 

“You’re right, it wouldn't work.”

 

They sat for a moment before bursting out in laughter, Zoro’s head falling off Sanji’s lap with a dull _thunk_. Sanji slid down to his back, lying flat on the dock next to Zoro as his breathing calmed down. He looked up at the sky, watching fat clouds drift overhead. 

 

“I’m just the cook anyways. Hardly the top pick next to the pirate king and the word’s greatest swordsman.”

 

Zoro shuffled closer, pushing himself up on his elbows. He kissed Sanji then, keeping it chaste so he could get the cook to look at him. 

 

“Y’know, you’d think the guy getting hundreds of proposals-

 

“It's not _hundreds_ -

 

“-would be more confident about his self worth.”

 

Sanji sighed, closing his eyes and pulling Zoro down so he could press his face into the soft green hair. He’d never tell the swordsman, but it reminded him of Sunny’s lawn a little. It was familiar, and comforting, and yeah, green. A calloused hand dragged itself over Sanji’s arm, grabbing his attention. 

 

“If you wanna talk about it, I’ll listen.”

 

Sanji looked down in surprise. Zoro looked up at him, chin on his chest and just an inch away, open and honest. Sanji blushed, embarrassed at the vulnerability he had thrown himself into.

 

“No, I mean. It’s _stupid_ and I know it so-

 

“You know you’re important, right?”

 

Sanji felt like his ears would blow off from the heat, heart pounding with a mix of all sorts of emotions. He’d been in this place before, sitting beside Zeff or Luffy or anyone really, counting himself as second rate or last place and _he was just the cook, it's not a big deal._

 

“I should probably go check on the chefs, make sure-

 

“ _Sanji_.”

 

Sanji stilled, chest tight and hands curled up into fists. He looked away, off towards the sea even as he felt Zoro’s gaze burning him up.

 

“Cook, is it- is this a thing from, the uh, your- _them_?”

 

Sanji kinda knew what Zoro was getting at. He was used to people either tiptoeing around the Vinsmoke fiasco or throwing it at him like a bomb. He shrugged as best he could with Zoro lying on him, still looking away. 

 

“Things stick with you as a kid, y’know? Words that don't mean shit now- I don't know. You’re, _imprintable_ or some shit at that age.” 

 

Words like _useless_ and _weak_ permanantly screaming in his ear, just on a muted setting most of the time. Sanji figured that was just how it was going to always be. He could only take so much time out of the day to hate himself for something someone else said to him. Work and mental baggage don't make a graceful combination. 

 

“I bet you were such a little shit as a kid.”

 

Sanji laughed, only half forced. He’d been an asshole of a child with Zeff, sure, but before then had been a different story. He wouldn't tell Zoro though, mostly becaus it just didn't matter how soft he was when he was 6 or 8 or whatever. Those bruises faded, and then Zeff taught him cuss words and how to scowl. 

 

“I swapped the old man’s leg out for a plunger one night. I think I still have a scar on my head for it.”

 

Zoro snorted, letting out a burst of laughter. His face, pressed against Sanji’s stomach, made it easy to hear every inhale. Sanji laughed with him, quieter but a whole lot more genuine. He remembered Zeff, standing over him with the height of entire buildings, telling him he was worth something.

  


-oOo-

  
  


“ _Yow! You’ve reached Franky, carpenter extraordinaire, shipwright to the pirate k-_

 

“You do realize that answering like that is stupid, right? I mean a _Luffy_ level of stupid, for fucks sake.”

 

“ _Sanji-bro! What can I do ya for? Don't tell me it's another Zoro incident. Honestly I’m just glad you still_ have _a ship considering the history of you guys going at it.”_

 

Sanji cringed at the unfortunately accurate phrasing. He cleared his throat, repeating the script he had come up with. 

 

“Uh, well, you see, the kitchen is _loud_ , Franky, and so the thing with that-

 

“ _Noise canceling pans! I’m on it, bro.”_

 

“N-wait _what_.”

 

“ _Although they do still burst into flames...well, thats prototyping for ya!”_

 

“...ok, _no_ and _never_ and what the actual fuck are they even _made_ of- nevermind, I don't want to know. I’m calling about the walls.”

 

“ _Walls_?”

 

“Need thicker walls. ‘Cuz the kitchen. Is loud.”

 

Sanji delicately set the den-den mushi down so he could slap himself in the face a little. He picked the poor thing up again. 

 

“ _I’ll do ya one even better, Sanji-bro-_

 

“I told you to stop calling me that-

 

“ _I’m workin’ with those tone dials again, and I’m thinking that if I can reverse ‘em-_

 

“No, really, I just want the walls thicker-

 

“ _-Cuz I already made this silent blender, right? And I figured next step is a mixer, but it's suuuuuper tricky to get the frequency right, ya feel?”_

 

Sanji paused.

 

“Did you say a silent blender?”

 

-oOo-

  


Zoro was waiting in the room when Sanji finally returned, looking expectant. Obviously he couldn't expect and instant fix to the thinness of the walls, but he was hoping the cook would return with good news on that front. 

He ended up falling asleep while Sanji (unfortunately still clothed) paced back and forth in the room, ranting excitedly about new kitchen appliances Franky was working on. 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> challengers and challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update!! I spent way too much time on oceans child and then got lost in work. Anyways this is a kinda short chapter since the second part of it is still in progress and that way I'll be able to update sooner

  
  
  


There was an altered routine now, starting from the moment Sanji woke up to the moment he fell asleep. It was a shift _ ,  _ less a change, like nothing more than taking a step to the side. 

Wake up to Zoro, maybe (probably) kiss Zoro, bicker all the way out the door, prepare breakfast, eat with Zoro, (probably kiss Zoro again). Same general process with lunch and dinner along with snack (see: kissing Zoro) breaks. Add in a few sparring bits, the occasional quickie,  _ hopefully  _ quiet sex before bed, and that was life on the All Blue for Sanji. Simplified to the most straightforward; it was pretty damn nice. 

It was all Zoro. Sanji’s life took and uphill climb, and it was the swordsman waiting at the top, holding out his hand. Zoro challenged the mundane, grabbing at Sanji’s organization and tipping it over the edge.  _ Here,  _ he was saying.  _ Here and here.  _ Here’s a kiss, here's an insult, here’s my affection and a blade at your throat. It was always a mixed bag of aggressive rivalry and quiet romance with them it seemed. This is how I see this. This is what you never noticed. I want your attention, so fight me. Rinse and repeat and all that.

_ There's a pattern _ , Sanji thought. Like the carefully stacked events of his life. Good and bad and good and bad. And if he had been going uphill for a while, where did down begin?

 

“Roronoa Zoro, I challenge you!”

 

_ Here, _ he thought.  _ Here and here and here.  _

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


It was as sacred a rule as the protection of his hands, above his unwillingness to harm a woman. Inbedded in his soul were the remains of broken ribs and black eyes- fallen on his small frame undeservingly. He had only been a child, and it had hurt so much, and so compassion was born alongside a rule to live by.  _ Do not harm the innocent _ . 

This stemmed from an overly matured realization that what had happened to him was wrong. Children, like with all things, learn as they grow. And since he had only ever been punished for weakness, the weakness became a wrongness, and the wrongness became his entire being. Year and  _ years  _ and all those twisted words and tattered skin, past the starvation, past childhood, it took Luffy for him to realize  _ you do not deserve this. You did not deserve that _ . Zeff had taught him to fight back, and he had become strong, but his worth had never been properly measured and it had fit him like a too-large shoe. 

Compassion, Sanji learned, was also somewhat of a rarity in the pirate world. Luffy, despite loss and pain, had only risen with coals in his stomach, facing off the entire world. Same with Zoro. The thing about compassion is, it's born from victims most times. A person needs to be  _ weak  _ to suffer that perfect amount- to stand up after and say  _ no one should ever feel like I do _ . Sanji thinks Usopp got that same disease he does. He thinks Chopper has it. He thinks Nami has it, but hides it better. Robin is a mix- her compassion is limited to her chosen people after a decade of backstabbing scars. For Sanji, it might as well be terminal with how often he  _ needs  _ to see some people smile. Why would anyone step on the hands of a beggar when it'd be so easy to give them something? It was so easy to give, why didn't everyone do it?

He sees Zoro push a man out of his way, and Sanji gets that, he does. But what if, without Zeff’s training, without Luffy’s welcome, it had been Sanji who was pushed to the side, too weak to protest? He doesn't think it often because this is the New World, and he’s crushed bodies so thoroughly he could have packed them tight in a box, and again, weakness is a wrongness and  _ do not be that wrongness. _ His compassion can  _ only  _ extend to the innocent. Luffy is kind, and kindness is  _ not  _ a weakness but that’s only because Luffy can take out entire armies and laugh in the face of warlords. 

 

“Zoro, he’s a  _ kid _ .”

 

“If he’s old enough to hold a sword and challenge me, he’s not a kid.”

 

Down on the dock a kid-and he  _ was  _ a kid- stared up at them with a face that hadn't even lost its roundness. A child made up of dirty clothes and loose teeth no doubt. Sanji starts to turn his head away, because this shouldn’t involve him at the end of the day. By the time he goes to bed the kid will have been forgotten and Sanji didn't want to ever know his name. Except. 

 

_ “I can't let them die.” _

 

There it is again, making him want to light himself on fire. His compassion, betraying him because  _ those  _ people had deserved to die, hadn't they? After everything they’d done- and his brothers wouldn't have even  _ cared _ . They would’ve laughed, cold and broken until a bullet flicked the switch on their brains. And Judge, above all, shouldn't he have been removed from the world? Sanji doesn't know what's up and what's down anymore because compassion can be the outstretched hand and the hidden knife at the same time. God damn double-edged sword, that's what it is. Sanji thinks he’s losing the rest of his mind, getting attached to some shitty stray  _ kid  _ with a sword. 

 

“He’s younger than we were.”

 

“When did you first kill someone, cook?”

 

Cotton-edged images played in Sanji’s head. He barely remembered, or maybe he had just gotten too good at forgetting. 

 

“Maybe 16. Maybe 17.”

 

It hadn't been intentional. Sometimes though, bones break. Sometimes, people are not as strong as their mouth is loud. 

 

“I was 14.”

 

Sanji swallowed. He remembered being 14, bandaging up scraped knees because his growth spurts made him clumsy. And Zoro had been washing blood off his swords. 

 

“Well not everyone is Roronoa fucking Zoro, ok?”

 

Sanji looked down at the boy, at his fucking face without even a hint of fear and  _ god,  _ wasn't that just like how Zoro used to be though. So fucking  _ stupid _ with bravery built on how big he knew the world to be, but not how big it actually was. 

 

“What happened to that power that came with cutting? The power to  _ not  _ cut?”

 

_ You cut apart steel and then helped Usopp to his feet- don't you remember? Duality can never be exclusive.  _

But Zoro was already turning away from him, towards a child with too much willpower. Sanji could read it out, spelled on his jawline like storm clouds predicting rain. The intention to cut, the intention to  _ harm _ .  

 

“Draw your sword then.”

 

Sanji closed his eyes. He heard the clean sound of metal scraping metal, vibrating in his stomach like nausea.

 

-oOo-

  
  


Zoro thinks about Kuina and the strength she would have blown the world away with if she was alive. He’s bitter about it sometimes, and it's easier to be bitter than sad anyways. He’s cut up with scarred over guilt, the kind that goes  _ it should have been me  _ \- but it's only loud when swordsmen flaunt their inexpertise with their bad footwork and bad grip and bad reactions.  _ Bad bad bad. Kuina would do better. It should have been  _ you. 

There’s a lot of misplaced feelings in there. He doesn't mean to be cruel, but knows it comes out and latches onto his movements. He loves Sanji, but it is irrefutably Sanji who fills the role as the kind one, and his hands are careful. Sanji isn't well acquainted with the weight of a sword, and his dream involves consumption towards life.

 

_ “Roronoa Zoro, I challenge you!” _

 

No, he wants to say. You do not, and you probably never will. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Sanji holds his breath the same way he did the day he met Zoro. 

There’s the fear- even though it's a stranger it's still a  _ fear _ that whoever this person is, they won't get up. The difference this time is that it's not Zoro on the ground bleeding out and calling to Luffy, and it's not Mihawk standing without a scratch. 

Zoro’s only sheathing one sword because anymore would be a waste. He didn't so much as flick his wrist and this -  _ kid _ is down on the ground and he might now get up. There’s no Luffy and there’s sure as hell no Chopper and Sanji bites his lip so hard he tastes copper. The deck is stained red now, and all the salt water in the world won't get rid of the image of Zoro standing over that boy’s body.

There’s a wet sound that Sanji recognizes as coughing up blood, (he would know, he’s made that noise plenty) and his legs move on instinct. That kid’s alive that  _ stupid fucking kid _ he’s alive and Sanji needs to  _ help _ him because he doesn't have anyone else and-

Zoro’s hand on his shoulder stops him, and he glances at the hard look in the gray eye, but his eyes switch back to the kid, choking on his own organs. Zoro’s voice is quiet in his ear. 

 

“He’s gotta get up on his own.”

 

Sanji feels his heart jump to this throat and then bounce to his feet. He looks from the stupid dying kid to Zoro. 

 

“He’s not gonna get up if someone doesn't fucking  _ help  _ him.”

 

Zoro doesn't budge, and Sanji feels anger warm his stomach. Zoro is all hard edges and sharpened steel, and the softness from the night before and even the morning must have been completely left behind- tucked in a corner somewhere. Now it's just Roronoa Zoro, demon of the east, and Sanji’s lover is far away.

 

“I raised my sword, and I got up.”

 

Sanji feels his eyes widen. He makes a noise like a yell in the shape of a laugh, rough and on edge. He wants to scream in Zoro’s face. 

 

“You were  _ dragged _ , half fucking  _ dead _ , into a boat by Johnny! And then your  _ nakama _ wrapped bandages around you until we got you to a doctor!”

 

The hand on his shoulder didn't move, and he pushed it off, seething. He looked at Zoro, wondering if he really remembered what happened as him getting up on his own, like he had never once had his own tears mingle with his blood. 

 

“If you save him now, he’ll only ever be dependant on others.”

 

Sanji wants to kick his face in, break his nose. Break all his ungrateful bones. 

 

“And the fuck would you have done if you were alone, huh?”

 

Sanji gets right in his face, watches Zoro’s one eye latch onto Sanji’s. Zoro still speaks quietly, too calm for Sanji to stand. 

 

“I would have managed.”

 

There’s a bone rattling cough behind them, and Sanji turns again, feeling desperate at the sight of skin turning so gray. He turns back to Zoro and he swears there’s fire in his throat. 

 

“If Luffy and the others hadn’t been there on that day,  _ I  _ would have been the one to pull you on a fucking boat and put bandages on you. I would have seen someone dying who had potential and was one hell of a moron, and then I would have saved his ass, just like I’m gonna do now.”

 

He doesn't give Zoro a second glance and runs over to the kid, kneeling beside him. He’s shaking a bit and his eyes are closed, shallow breath bringing a new pulse of blood onto the floor. Sanji grimances and removes his jacket to press on the open wound. He turns to yell at any of his chefs who are close enough, still held back by the weight of Zoro’s power. 

 

“Get a damn stretcher and the first aid kit!  _ Now! _ ”

 

He turns back to the kid as he hears footsteps rush in compliance. He’s got his eyes barely open now, staring up at Sanji but probably not seeing him. He would probably grow up remembering the ghost that smoked a cigarette and told him not to die. 

 

“Don't go into the light yet, ok kid?”

 

He doesn't reply, but he keeps breathing and that's all Sanji needs. A few chefs appear with the stretcher and the kit, and Sanji doesn't need to look to know that Zoro is gone. 

 

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji, aka the worry master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another shortish chapter because I'm taking so long organizing the next bits. I've officially finished my drafts for all the next chapters, so now I just need to organize and edit the fuck out of everything and boom, fic done! I actually wrote the ending way way back, so its kinda crazy to see it all coming together like a messy painting  
> anyways, thank you for all the comments and kudos and love and everything in general! Back to my bullshit now

 

The boat didn't have extra beds of course, so swordsman number 2 lay unconscious on Sanji’s mattress. It sure as hell wasn't Zoro’s bed that night, since neither men were about to break their stubborness streak and make a mutual apology  _ easy _ . 

The kid coughed weakly, and Sanji sighed, patting his damp head with a cloth. He must have come from somewhere nearby, no way a dumbass like this was from beyond the red line and had made it so far alone. Sanji didn't really care, but he figured when the boy got up he’d have to head off towards  _ something _ . 

 

“...I failed.”

 

It had been the mantra for the past hours. Not a  _ hello  _ or even a  _ thank you  _ but a right away admission to some deep seated guilt. A sort of promise that was crumbling before Sanji’s eyes, deteriorating like a lot of young proclamations did before the journey got tough. Sanji shushed him, patting at the feverish sweat while he continued the quiet mumble of  _ forgive me, I wasn't strong enough, I’m sorry. _

Sanji wanted to comfort him with the truth, but the truth was hardly believable. To say that Roronoa Zoro was once just as naive and unprepared was like telling someone about the land in the sky with an ocean made of clouds. It was like trying to explain color to the blind, except the blind were crying and chanting their own self degradation. 

 

“Just sleep already and get better.”

 

Honestly Sanji still didn't know if the guy was fully conscious. The bleeding had stopped though, wound stitched up with barely 10 crosses of catgut thread. No broken bones or anything, since Sanji wanted to believe Zoro had no intention of killing when he acted. 

Sanji’s jaw clenched, anger warming up his gut again. Zoro could be a god damn asshole sometimes, pushing his stupidity to new levels now that there were so few people to tell him no. But that was where the anger was now, wasn't it? The problem Sanji had never thought to think about. Who would ever bother to tell Roronoa Zoro to stop and _make_ him stop? Luffy didn't hold a leash on anyone, and Zoro barely listened to his own brain. He didn't want to think of Zoro as some unstoppable monster, painted in such a different light from himself, but sometimes the man’s heart seemed very distant, and very cold. 

Sanji shook his head, as if he could dispel Zoro from his mind entirely. The bastard took up so much room in his head these days that Sanji wanted to charge him rent. 

 

“...wanted...to prove...myself.”

 

There were a lot of directions Sanji could go from that. He could, right then and there, shape the path this child went forward on. Go this way, do this, give up, never give up, whatever. Who was he to create the direction some lonely boy went in. 

 

“Go to sleep, kid.”

 

_ Go to sleep, get better, go away and don't stain my bed.  _ Sanji wanted to go to bed too. He’d probably be on the floor for a few hours before breakfast, and he had gotten woefully attached to having a human furnace sleeping beside him. He got up, loading the pot of dirty water on his hip bone so he could throw it overboard. He wanted to check to make sure the kitchen had been properly set to rest for the night, and the supply order wouldn't wait just because there was drama on the ship. 

He exited the room and tossed the contents of the pot away, and he knew Zoro was nearby just like he always knew when Zoro was nearby. He ignored the presence, unimpressed by the silent brooding act. 

 

“He wouldn't have died.”

 

Sanji didn't look or stop, scoffing at the swordsman’s words as he passed the man to go down the stairs. Zoro followed him.

 

“I didn't plan on killing him, cook.”

 

Sanji turned on his heels, glaring hard. Zoro still had dried blood on his sleeve, and it was just another thing on top of the thousands that pissed Sanji off. 

 

“I’m not worried about him anymore, you stupid shit.”

 

Sanji wasn't. The kid would heal up fine, go on with his life fine, maybe forget this whole ordeal. Kids got hurt all the time and survived, becoming adults with scars and small backstories, and Sanji was proof of what children could endure. The fact that every adult had once been such a weak little thing still baffled Sanji some days. 

 

“Then why the hell are you so pissed?”

 

Sanji licked his lips, grip tight on the pot hanging at his side. The glow from the rooms was casting out on them, causing Zoro’s grey eyes to burn gold. It was always metal with him, metal in his eyes, metal in his hands, metal in his core. His hair would probably turn grey one day and Sanji wouldn't be able to tell what was Zoro and what was steel. 

 

“Have you ever considered that I might be worried about  _ you _ ?”

 

He seemed surprised. Sanji guessed he would be, since no one  _ did _ tend to worry about Zoro. It was always making sure the idiot didn't bleed to death, and that was it. The crew had their fair share of emotional hang-ups and hurricanes, and Sanji had spent a lot of time giving Usopp quiet comfort in the form of card games and small words. He had been confronted on his own more than once, nakama worried for his sake and showing it in different ways. Robin used to make him sit until she had dissected him of recent insecurities, forcing him to bare himself like a newborn to his own image. But it was always  _ Zoro’s lost a lot of blood but he’ll be fine. Zoro almost died but he's fine. _ Zoro was always just damn  _ fine  _ wasn't he. 

 

“So, what, this is about me now?”

 

In his agitation, Sanji tossed the pot overboard along with the dirty water. He couldnt find it in himself to give a fuck. The distant splash was the only evidence in the dark. 

 

“Yes you stupid fuck. You think I wasn't expecting this shit? Since day one I knew some dumb brat was gonna show up and mess up my deck.”

 

“Then why the fuck are you mad?”

 

Because  _ you don't get it  _ and  _ I don't know how to make you get it. _

 

“Because you’ve been on this ship for months, and I still don't know what you’re  _ doing _ .”

 

If Zoro was taken aback by that, he didn't show it. His brow furrowed like Sanji had given him a puzzle. 

 

“You already know my drea-

 

“I mean what’s  _ next _ , dumbass! What do you  _ want _ !?”

 

It’d been the question in the back of Sanji’s mind for a while now. It’d been there since Mihawk had come, and Sanji had thought he would whisk Zoro away back to the world of blood and swords and nothing else. It’d been pushing and  _ pushing  _ because would Zoro leave? Would he  _ leave  _ and where would he go and what would he  _ do _ ? What did the world’s greatest swordsman do, now in this lull of newly found near-peace, where there were only so many marines to cut apart and pirates were either allies or that much weaker it didn't matter?

And then there was that voice in Sanji’s head, the really annoying one that sounded like himself but less angry at the world. The one that went  _ will Zoro leave  _ me _ too? _

And Zoro looked at him like he didn't know the answer. 

 

“I don't want to see you end up as some psychopath wandering around and cutting up the world for fun. I get that Mihawk is your mentor or whatever, but he’s a weird bastard who’s been cutting people up because he’s  _ bored _ . And you’re- you’re better than that or some shit!”

 

Zoro was quiet, eye large and round looking at Sanji. He shook himself from his shock in an instant, scowl returning. 

 

“I’m not gonna turn into some fucked- a  _ more  _ fucked up version of Mihawk.”

 

Sanji ran a hand through his hair. 

 

“You don't know that.”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“No you fucking don't!”

 

“I do, because I have you.”

 

Sanji wanted to stamp his foot through every layer of the boat. The anger in his gut was taken away, replaced by something much softer, and he was suffocating from it. 

 

“Idiot. How would I stop you?”

 

_ Maybe I’ve never been as strong as you. Maybe you’d kill me one day if you really wanted to. Maybe I’ve never once been the person who can give you what you need, and that makes me so fucking angry.  _

 

“You’re doing it right now. You’ve always been jumping in front of shit like that.”

 

Of course, Sanji thought. It was the martyr in him- no, martyr was too grand a word. He was barely a sacrificial lamb, given away like meat for the god of bullshit. 

 

“This isn't about me though.”

 

_ This is about us, and our future is being carved out right now.  _

 

“No, but you’ve always had my back before.”

 

Zoro’s trust, having been given to Sanji so long ago had never been abused. Sanji kept it like an unopened present. Zoro took a small step forward, and then another. 

 

“Are you still mad at me?”

 

Sanji’s instinct was to say  _ yes _ just out of habit. He was finding it annoyingly hard to stay angry at the moment though, his defenses thoroughly shattered by the way the swordsman reached hesitantly for him. He knew that if Zoro pulled him into any kind of embrace it would be over, and that somehow felt like a type of losing.  

 

“If you had killed that kid, I wouldn't have forgiven you.”

 

Zoro brought his hand up, brushing at some of Sanji’s messy hair, tucking it behind his ear with unbearable intimacy. 

 

“I wouldn't have. Still mad?”

 

Sanji wasn't. The anger had cooled a while ago, but he had to keep appearances up for the sake of his own stubbornness. 

 

“Kinda.”

 

“Can I still sleep with you in the bed?”

 

“The kid’s in the bed.”

 

“Where’re you sleeping then?”

 

“I guess the storage.”

 

“Can I sleep with you in the storage then?”

 

Again, Sanji was tempted to tell him to piss off. But it would be cold without a blanket, and Zoro wasn't anything soft and comfortable to sleep on, but he was  _ Zoro _ and maybe Sanji was in a little too deep because that was all the excuse he really needed. 

 

“Idiot.”

 

And of course Zoro understood Sanji’s language, so he knew that by that Sanji meant  _ you’re such an idiot for even asking. Of course. Fuck you. _ He kissed Sanji’s forehead, and it didn't earn him a kick in his gut because Sanji was finding out there was a hell of a lot he’d let Zoro get away with these days. Like cutting up a kid and making Sanji worry. Like being such an absolute moronic shithead who made Sanji’s heart beat too damn much. 

_ Do you know,  _ Sanji wanted to say,  _ Do you know about the echoes we leave behind? _ Like how today when you cut open too-soft flesh, I was seeing Luffy sailing the blues without a swordsman. I saw a world where I was not the Pirate King’s cook because the Pirate King died a long time ago and Luffy was just some kid who never met Roronoa Zoro. Did you know that I have always been a coward, because I take one step after you seem to take two?

 

“There’s a supply run happening in two days. We’ll take the kid to the island and spend the day there.” He said instead. 

 

Zoro nodded, fingers still trying to keep Sanji’s hair behind his ear. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro didn't fall asleep right away, choosing to hang on to consciousness while Sanji curled against him. The cook was dead to the world, no doubt tired from the excitement of the day, spending far too much energy on a dumb kid and needless worry. 

Zoro didn't give himself time to worry about his own dauntlessness. His goals had plateaued, and there was no more to climb. With an enormity of power available to him, there were no limits. Sanji had been right in saying that no one refused Roronoa Zoro. No one in the world seemed capable of stopping him anymore, and he did wonder if there would ever be a point where he might find himself rampaging blindly into a state of dangerous apathy for the world. He could cut down enemies and buildings and there wasn't really anything he couldn't cut, was there? What were his limits anymore now that most ways of measuring proved useless? If there was a god maybe Zoro could seek them out and kill them, if only to prove that he  _ could _ . 

He shook himself of the idea, looking back at Sanji. The power the cook had over him was a hell of a lot more than he knew, that was for sure. Sanji could make him bow his head if he chose, and he didn't have any clue because he had no idea the depth of Zoro’s love. And there was absolutely no guarantee to go with that love, but there was never any guarantee with anything really. Zoro was sure that there was some sort of love reserved for him in Sanji’s overfilled heart, but it was the kind of love he kept for all his nakama. Sanji loved- it's what he  _ did _ . But it was expected that the love Zoro craved from Sanji wasn't there. Sanji was waiting for his fairy tale romance, and his eyes didn't seem to land on Zoro for that. But then again it came back to the fact that  _ Sanji doesn't know you love him.  _

That’s Zoro’s truth;  _ I only have one heart, and it only fits in his hands.  _ Forever was just as real as any other dream, and he would live to see the impossible in so many ways. Love was tremendous, it was earth shattering and it transcended. It did not leave him, he carried it, he treasured it, he loved back with the words on his lips and the ache in his chest. Even if one day Sanji would look back at him and turn away with shame, with  _ rejection _ , any kind of momentary love was worth that cost. If Sanji never loved him as anything more than what he was now, Zoro would take that and carry it and treasure it. 

Sanji moved in his sleep, his hands making fists. Zoro pulled him closer, mile by mile through the distance into his arms, securing him to where Zoro knew he would be safe. It was strange that even in a quiet space like this, with Sanji asleep, Zoro couldn't say it out loud. The weight of such a long carried secret kept his tongue still, so he could only repeat it in his head. He brushed his lips against Sanji’s brow, willing him good dreams.  _ Do you know I love you? Do you know? I have loved you for so long now. I might love you forever.  _

And still Sanji worried about him. What did Zoro have to lose, when he never had much to begin with? His trauma was insignificant in the grand scheme- but a loss was a loss was loss, and his loss had still been  _ his loss _ . Zoro was the man that could lose an eye and brush it off, who could lose an arm or his ear or go blind or leave both legs in the ground if he had to, with the infinitely concrete truth that he would get up. It was not in his nature to mourn, it was his nature to lift and carry and reach the edge of the world. It was Sanji’s nature to offer himself up and smile while the devil dragged him by the ankles. It was always going to be who the man was, and it frustrated Zoro to no end. 

_ Do you know,  _ he thought,  _ that I have counted the bullets you’ve taken for Usopp and Nami? I know the scar on your left calf is from an axe meant for Chopper. There’s a pinpoint fine dot on your wrist, and I’ve kissed it, knowing it came from the tip a blade set to behead Luffy. And I love you, and I have loved you, but who you are scares me like an enemy never has.  _

Zoro thinks that Sanji would take the burden of death away from the entire world if he could. Sanji would gladly accept to be reborn in countless lifetimes just to die for the sake of others. He would relive all the tragedy but without the human grace of learning from a mistake. Like a fucking lab rat, going through the maze over and over and over while the gods wear lab coats and laugh. He’d take the emptiness, the pain, the anything and all, and he’d take it a million times over. He’d be reborn just to suffer it, and he’d be proud to.

_ Could I be reborn too, if only to love you?  _ Sanji stirred again in his sleep, face pressed into the space carved out for him in between Zoro’s neck and shoulder. 

  
  



	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a reprieve on the supply islands

  
  
  


The kid was awake when Sanji went up to change. He was sitting upright, looking tired and dirty and just a little shocked to his core. 

 

“Thank you. For saving me and all.”

 

Sanji nodded in response, moving to his dresser. He grabbed a clean shirt and tie, his jacket long discarded and surely caked with dried blood. Yesterday’s tie was held captive by Zoro’s body, still unmoving and snoring in the storage. Sanji still had the first aid box on the floor, and he decided checking bloody bandages was better to be done in his dirtier clothes. 

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

The cook reached for the blanket, and the boy moved his arms out of the way, giving access. There was no free-flowing blood or exaggerated swelling, but he’d need to be checked by a proper doctor. 

 

“Ok, I think.”

 

Sanji gave him a look. 

 

“You ‘think’?”

 

The boy shrugged, wincing at the movement. He had clean cropped hair and skin that was covered in more than a good amount of grime. Sanji wondered if all swordsmen had a thing about not washing themselves. 

 

“Never been cut like this before. Should I be feelin’ anything special?”

 

Sanji sighed, throwing the covers back over him. It figured the kid had never received any crazy injury before now. He had probably lived a fairly normal life, picked up a sword, never been challenged and gone for the top straight away. 

 

“Nah, the shithead knows better than to cut up your organs. Where’d you come from anyways? Somewhere this side of the red?”

 

The kid ducked his head looking embarrassed. Sanji went back to the dresser, quickly changing shirts. 

 

“A couple islands off the west. Is it obvious?”

 

_ Yes.  _

 

“Nah, just a guess. We’ll be going that way for supplies tomorrow, so we’ll take you.”

 

They would have taken him anyways. Zoro was still sleeping, and the cook thought it best that he stayed that way as things settled in the morning. Some of the chefs still moved with stiff limbs, unsure how to resume daily life at the moment. 

Sanji changed the bandages quietly, letting the boy stay in his thoughts. He didn't prod, since this person was a stranger and Sanji didn't know if he should be anything else. 

 

“Will I ever be strong enough?”

 

Sanji tightened the ends of the white fabric, looking up. He was aware, suddenly, of how infinitely old he must seem to someone so young and inexperienced.

 

“Do you want to be?”

 

He hesitated, words probably blocked somewhere in his throat. Sanji figured that was answer enough.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


The supply ship had no luxuries, but it was fast and economical. It made three stops on a monthly basis, going from the floating restaurant to island to island and back. Sanji rarely joined the restocking crew, prefering to send trusted members to pick the right supplies. 

Zoro was asleep by the rail, soaking up all the sun while Sanji smoked and watched him. The kid was below deck, probably sleeping as well.

 

“What do you want to do on the island?”

 

Zoro wasn't asleep then. He cracked his eye open, focused on Sanji and the smoke clouds. 

 

“I want to be romantic.”

 

“You’re already a romantic.”

 

“I’m giving you a hint, dumbass.”

 

“Oh. Ok.”

 

Sanji poked him in the head.

 

“Ok to what?”

 

Zoro snatched the hand, pressing a chaste kiss to Sanji’s wrist. He gave a quicksilver smile at the flush spreading over pale skin.

 

“Let's do romance then, love-cook.”

 

Sanji withdrew his hand, trying to recover. It wasn't that Zoro was  _ good _ at this or anything, it was just that Sanji was too susceptible. He was sure. 

 

“Yeah.  _ Yeah _ , that’s what I want, so.”

 

Maybe it was the exhaustion of the whole week combined with the draining events and 3 hours of sleep, but Sanji didn't feel patient enough for anymore beating around the bush. He was nearing 30, he knew what he wanted in a partner, and it was time to see if Zoro could fit that role. It was creeping up on him day by day that the role he had so carefully carved out for his life-long companion had actually never been clear-cut. It was loose all around the edges, and the longer Zoro stayed, the more the edges seemed to fit to his shape. But Sanji was tired, and his heart was in the leading position above his brain most times, so he let it direct him. Zoro was far,  _ very  _ far from perfect, and Sanji was only now understanding that that was still perfect. And it was  _ terrifying _ . 

After all, love was nothing simple. Love was a mother's touch and soft words when the bruises took up more space than healthy skin. Love was a warm meal when death was in his shadow. Love was a push in the right direction even when it meant leaving love behind. Love came with loss, and so he was afraid. Not of giving, never of giving, but to receive a thing as enormous as love- the cost was so much, and he was still healing even now. Love was far too much to take on in that  _ my one true love  _ sense, but to love many with a gentle heart was enough, surely. He loved so many, mostly equally even if in different forms, but to love  _ one  _ above all others seemed. It was nearly selfish.

He wanted to ask someone  _ How _ . How do you hold your most vulnerable piece of yourself extended in a selfish regard for one person? How is someone supposed to accept something so large? Sanji wanted to bow at the kindness Zoro was giving him these days, the kindness he did not deserve he and could  _ never  _ deserve this in the state of mind he found himself stuck in. He deserved stick thin bones showing through his sunburned skin and a cage that came with a matching helmet. He deserved every cut and push and broken body and he wanted to scream until his voice gave out because deserving  _ love _ ? No, no he could  _ give  _ love. 

Robin had berated him about it in her relearned gentle way, as recycled motherly wisdom often came to her so naturally. 

 

_ “Did you know there are winter islands so cold that the only way people survive is by living in communal houses, sharing body heat?”  _ She would say. 

 

Did you know that people have always survived best by forming bonds and holding hands? Did you know that humans, as living creatures, need to be social in order to progress throughout history? Did you know that needing others has never once been a weakness, but a proven form of evolutionary power?

Sanji knew this. He was always tempted to tell Robin  _ I know, I understand, it’s fact.  _ But written in stone had never been his form of history, and growing up by example of punching bag techniques and cradled cracked bones had made him forget that the bigger picture is the bigger truth, and the beauty of people is enormous. Germa was an ink drop compared to that, and love by that example was absolutely false if not dangerous. 

 

_ “History can tell us the future in ways we often ignore. Few humans are unpredictable the way Luffy is, but his unpredictability will no doubt be repeated into a way that will be written as expected. Our very lives dictate what will happen next, and isn’t that fascinating?”  _ She would say. 

 

_And._ He can hear her silent words. _And and and._ And one day the world will forget us, but it will all happen again. And it will still be recorded and repeated and forgotten and somehow formed into religion. And actually it’s not so fascinating at all, it’s extremely predictable. And actually isn’t _that_ the fascinating part. And in the future, when we are old, (if we even live to be old) maybe children will be sung to sleep by lullabies about the pirate king with a too-large smile. And maybe they will grow up to be the pirates that are also recorded in old books that governments will outlaw. And maybe, if we are very lucky and the god so many people believe in is actually kind, someone will remember our names and smile. And if nothing else, Sanji, isn't it so remarkable that we exist together in this space and time, able to love each other and feel loved? And Sanji, do you _know_ how loved you are? 

Did he know? What was the form of measurement nowadays, with Zeff looking so frail and Zoro so close to his side and Luffy far away? He wasn't so sure even Robin knew, with her boundless wealth of understanding. And she had been so hesitant to accept love as well once upon a time. Regardless, the answer had never really been found and the mystery was still unsolved.   

 

“Let’s go out on a date then. Hell, let's make a day of it, cook.”

 

Sanji swallowed, hoping the butterflies in his stomach would dissolve in the gastric fluids already.

  
  


-oOo-

  
  
  


“You never asked my name.”

 

Sanji blew out his smoke, tapping the ash on the brick wall. Zoro stood somewhere behind them, carefully away from any exchange with the boy. The cook eyed the clean bandages, wondering how long they’d have to be there. The doctor inside would know, but Sanji wouldn't be around to hear the prognosis. 

 

“You never asked mine.” 

 

The boy looked at Sanji strangely, his eyebrows drawn in a tight line. 

 

“It's pretty obvious I would know what your name is, Blackleg Sanji.”

 

Sanji shrugged at that. There were no absolutes anywhere in the world, and there was bound to be someone so out of the loop they didn't even know the pirate king. Sanji could get away with flying under the radar and not being recognized all the time. But now he was with Zoro, and it made them both unmistakable. 

 

“If you want me to know your name, you can tell me. If not, that’s fine.”

 

Again, the kid gave an unreadable look, before giving Sanji a lopsided smile. He looked exhausted suddenly, like his body’s weight was too much to bare, but there was a new kind of happiness there. Maybe the joy of finally understanding something.

 

“You can read it in the news one day.”

 

Sanji gave him a smile of his own. He wondered if he’d be seeing him again, maybe a few years from now, sword held high on the All Blue. Very secretly, Sanji hoped not. He hoped that, in the very cautious peace blanketing most islands, a boy like that could grow up easily and find answers in meaneal work. 

The doctor’s door swung shut in finality. 

  
  


-oOo-

 

“How long we stayin?”

 

Zoro looked at the cook expectantly, and Sanji reached into his pocket, pulling out his watch. His men would be picking up pre-made orders, but they always had to double check the amount, haggle a bit, pack up the cargo and check for new deals. It gave them at least 5 hours, and then they’d go to the next island that was close by for a few other things. They’d probably only be at the other one for 3 hours, so they could make it back to the All Blue by midnight.

 

“We’ll get back to the ship in the afternoon. Did you wanna explore?”

 

Zoro shrugged.

 

“We could go get a room somewhere.”

 

Sanji kicked him in the leg. 

 

“You’re hopeless.”

 

“I was just kidding. Kinda. We could go start a bar fight?”

 

“It’s not even 9am, bars aren’t open. Also we’re not doing that.”

 

“Not doing it now or-

 

“Let’s go inside somewhere before we’re recognized at least.”

 

Sanji grabbed Zoro’s jacket, pulling him along into a coffee house. They sat in the corner under warm light, hardly any people inside other than a tired barista. Sanji waved him over, placing an order for coffee while Zoro peeked out the dirty stained-glass window. The cook nudged his leg, getting his attention. 

 

“I thought you were gonna try to be romantic?”

 

Sanji crossed his arms, raising a brow at the swordsman. Zoro fiddled with his worn jacket, having the decency to look a little embarrassed. 

 

“Well, I thought about it-

 

“Since when do you think?”

 

“Shut up. What I’m  _ trying  _ to say is that I don't know that much about romance. I wanna eat dinner with you but I sorta  _ always  _ wanna eat dinner with you, so it's not really different I guess? I mostly just really want to spend time with you, but I’m gonna need help with the romance part.”

 

The coffee arrived in time to save Zoro. He grabbed at his drink, chugging it like beer and obviously burning his tongue. Sanji rolled his eyes, blush high on his own cheeks. 

It was  _ sweet _ , really. Zoro could have brushed him off or even laughed at him, but he was very honestly trying at something that made him uncomfortable. That in itself was a grand enough gesture for Sanji, even if he wouldn't ever admit it. Zoro fanned his burnt mouth, hopeless and somehow charming. 

 

“How about we start off with this?”

 

Sanji reached across the table with his hand, placing his palm up and open next to Zoro’s. The swordsman looked at it for a moment like it would bite him, glancing at Sanji for confirmation before putting his coffee down. He took the cook’s hand gently, giving a little smile that was entirely too sweet for Sanji to handle. 

 

“You’re blushing, love-cook.”

 

Sanji took a large sip of coffee, failing to hide his smile. He could feel his tongue burning. 

 

“Shut up.”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Outside the window they could see the entire little town. From the other side their stained-glass images would be blurry at best, and the privacy gifted by that was rare and welcome. They traded small observations as the sun moved position.  

 

“The bread cart has a broken wheel. It’s literally- how can they not notice?” 

 

“In that red building, second floor, there’s this guy doing the weirdest dance.”

 

“Saw him earlier. Check out the flower shop person.”

 

“Thats 12 dogs too many.”

 

“I like dogs.”

 

“Then get a ship dog.”

 

“Should probably get a cat. Good for pest control.”

 

“Cats just sleep all day. Look at the hat on that woman.”

 

“ _ You _ just sleep all day and I keep you around. Chopper would like that hat.”

 

They left when the shop owner seemed fed up with their game, and even then they dawdled around sleepy shops, ducking into alleyways for no real reason. They sunk deeper into the shadowed parts of the town, no intention in mind, just the continuation of going further until they hit an end. Their hands stayed firmly intertwined. 

 

“Drink?”

 

Sanji checked his watch, and deemed alcohol consumption acception. He steered Zoro into a low-lit bar, held together by melted wax candles and drunk sailors. Sanji got a bottle of wine and nursed it while Zoro had 7 pints of questionable ale. It wasn't great, but Sanji left a large tip. 

He followed Zoro, letting the man lead them in circles and down hopeless paths. It was soothing in an odd way, to become lost by choice while the swordsman continued on cluelessly. He struggled to light a cigarette with one hand. The sun dipped. 

 

“We should eat.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“What do you wanna eat?”

 

Zoro shrugged. The movement jostled their joined hands. 

 

“What do  _ you  _ want to eat?”

 

Sanji picked a cafe style place by the docks. A couple sat in the back, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes and ignoring the waiter. An old woman brought them plates piled high with pasta and kissed her own fingers in genture. She put the salt on Sanji’s plate, and he let her. Zoro stuffed a forkful in his mouth. 

 

“‘Yers is better.”

 

Sanji flushed, then kicked him in the leg. 

 

“Don't talk with your mouth full.”

 

When she returned to collect the empty plates, she patted both their cheeks. Zoro wondered if she did that to everyone, or if she just liked them. Sanji said it was an acknowledgement. 

 

“An acknowledgment of what?”

 

“That we ate her food, and so we are living from her food. Like a blessing to that.”

 

Zoro nodded, pulling Sanji by the hand so he was close enough to kiss. He let his lips linger on his cheek, forming his own acknowledgement. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


They made it back to the ship just as they were lowering the sails. Sanji watched the island grow small, wondering about kids and swords and futures. Surely there was a balance that could be found where a new swordsman could reach their dreams without Zoro stepping down from his. Maybe all dreams were destined to either come from blood or end in blood though.

 

“Don't mourn him, he’s not dead.”

 

Sanji looked at Zoro, with his eyes painted gold by the low sun. He was being somber, but his hand was still gentle on Sanji’s. 

 

“I know.”

 

He did. Sanji had always known it was wasteful to mourn people with so much future laid out for them. He mourned people like his mother, who had been weaved together by bird songs and summer rain, but out of a cherishing so deep it overcame any grief. A child with wide eyes and full cheeks didn't want or need any kind of mourning. 

The ship sailed on quietly, and Zoro’s hand was warm. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro knew exactly where he was taking Sanji the second time they docked. It wasn't that it was the only thing on his mind, but it’d been something he’d wanted and he knew it was something they  _ needed _ . 

He dragged Sanji by his hand to a stop outside the first decent hotel. 

 

“So, hear me out.”

 

Sanji looked at him, then the building. He gave Zoro a flat look. 

 

“Wow.”

 

“I said hear me out. There’s actual privacy here. Y’know, no thin walls?”

 

“We wouldn't even get to spend the night.”

 

“We’re not really looking for a place to sleep, cook.”

 

“We’re not really looking for a place to fuck, either.”

 

Zoro gave an annoyed sigh, jerking his chin at the door. 

 

“When are we gonna get a chance at actual privacy like this on the ship? No Zeff or kitchen or crew members.”

 

Sanji looked like he was going to protest again, but Zoro beat him to it. 

 

“It would just be us, Sanji.”

 

Sanji looked at him and then at the hotel again. He had a slight blush on his face and eventually gave a small nod in agreement. 

 

“Could be nice.”

 

Zoro pulled them inside, digging in his haramaki until the right amount of coins appeared much to Sanji’s embarrassment. Key in hand, Zoro only took two wrong turns with Sanji laughing all the way into the room. 

Zoro closed the door behind them, turning to face Sanji slowly. In the room it was quiet in all the ways it never was on the ship, and it startled him. His ears nearly felt like they were ringing in the lack of sound, bursting at the quiet steps Sanji took towards him. 

For a moment he thought he’d made a mistake, and that in the solitude of the quiet hotel room Sanji would be able to hear just how loud his heart was beating. If Zoro wasn't careful, words would slip from his mouth and bounce off all the walls and then Sanji would  _ know _ , and funny thing about secrets and unspoken words; they get harder to say as time goes on. Now that everything was in his grasp, he had that much more to lose. Sanji in the candlelight of the hotel room with a loose tie and bright eyes- he was something exquisite and private and Zoro wanted to consume him like a last meal. Simultaneously, he couldn't imagine the moment ending.

It was slow in a way it hadn't been before, though. Zoro had been able to steal moments out of their daily life to find out how to touch Sanji, how to kiss him, how to hold him in the best possible way so every inch of them touched. He’d probably pressed his lips on every portion of Sanji, and somehow there was still hunger under his own skin. The inexhaustible desire to touch in so many ways was just something Zoro assumed he would always live with. It came with the ever present beat of his heart, morse coding out his love for the cook. 

By the time clothes were gone Zoro felt overwhelmed. Sanji kissed the tip of his nose, his cheekbones, offering up softness. Zoro descended on it, giving back in the way his fingers curled around Sanji’s hip bone and shoulder blade. He brushed his lips against Sanji’s neck, feeling each tremble. 

 

“Zoro...”

 

In the bed they were still slow. Zoro still felt new to gentleness, and he was afraid Sanji would see how clumsy he was sometimes. His own shaking hands just kept moving, afraid to stay in one place too long when there was still so much of Sanji to hold. He wanted to slow the world down, keep Sanji in the bed for weeks so he could properly take his time and finally memorize every bump of skin and bone. 

Afterwards, brought over the peak and then down to satiated and panting, Zoro couldn't stop himself from kissing Sanji still. And Sanji just smiled, and he had no idea how much it made Zoro’s heart bleed and burst.  _ I love you, I love you so much, I love you.  _ When Sanji spoke, his voice was hushed in a whisper, and he was unspeakably beautiful. 

 

“Whenever we docked on a peaceful island like this, I would make up a different life for myself. I imagined if I wasn't a pirate, or the what-ifs in my own history.”

 

Zoro understood that concept. He didn't do it because he had his path so clearly from start to finish, but it was simple to imagine. It was easier though to imagine Sanji, to see him fitting in with the kind people in the market and giving extra apples to children. He sees a not-a-pirate-Sanji buying flowers from an old man he knows by name. He sees him living in a light blue house, or a yellow one, or a white brick cottage further away. Maybe he doesn't have that scar from that thing, and maybe he spent his weekends swimming in that pond. Maybe on this island where it's so hard for fruit to grow he adapted and learned everything there ever was to know about the local bright purple beans. Maybe on this one he was much more a baker than a chef because that one old woman acted like he had brought her deceased husband back from the dead every time he baked muffins.

And in all those worlds of made-up Sanjis, Zoro saw himself on the outskirts. He saw himself faithfully following this Sanji and that Sanji and quietly, desperately loving them. All the Sanji’s of the unlimited universes and Zoro saying  _ I still love you _ , following stardust strands of fate over lifetimes. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow more overly romantic bullshit who is even surprised also I never did mention yall can find me on twitter at maddymock where I look at pictures of Sanji all day and cry at memes   
> next chapters will be leading up to some pretty meaty bits of this zosan sandwich so buckle up buttercups


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone make some noise for Dressrosa royals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chap while I get the other ones together and a HUGE shout out to donutsandcoffee for helping me so much!

  
  


Zeff greeted Sanji on the dock by throwing a letter at him. 

 

“We got royalty comin’.”

 

That didn't exactly narrow down the list for someone part of the Straw Hats. Sanji read through the letter, a bright smile forming as he showed the letter to Zoro. 

 

“Rebecca-chan wants to have her birthday party here! And Viola-swan is coming too~”

 

Zoro looked less than pleased at the cook’s swooning, but read through the letter himself. The Tontatta tribe would be coming, or at least a good portion of them along with the King of Dressrosa and a few other higher status associates. There would be guards and maybe a few others, and in total it looked like a fairly large and lavish affair. Zoro wasn't interested in any kind of party that involved nice dress and wine over strong spirits, but he was prepared to suffer through it.

Sanji took on the party planning in his typical perfectionist manner. Considering it was a princess’ party, he was no doubt going way over the top, and Zoro figured he’d stay the hell out of the way. To his surprise though, Sanji seemed to be pulling him back in every time he tried to give the cook some air. 

 

“Do you think the purple takes away from the blue? Should it be all the base color or is that too plain?”

 

Zoro looked at the sketch of the cake. He had absolutely no idea what a base color was. He looked at Sanji, who was looking at him. The cook nodded like Zoro had given him profound insight.

 

“No, the purple is fine. Maybe a lighter lilac though, yeah.”

 

Zoro nodded dumbly. 

It went like that for the next couple of days. Zoro, which envelope is better for the invitation? Marimo, get over here and taste this. Is the white lily too serious for floral arrangement? Oh, good idea, we  _ should _ replace the table cloth. Zoro felt complemented by the attention, finding himself grinning at the way Sanji couldn't decide over similar shades of yellow and the design of napkin. Everytime Zoro took a step back, Sanji followed him, and eventually Zoro just took the same steps the cook was taking until they were lined up in a graceful sync. Sanji passed a letter over his shoulder, and Zoro was ready to grab it. 

Sanji had brought down one of his original recipe journals, and held it lovingly close as he recited a few parts to his crew. It was regarded with a cherishing from everyone, and held with absolute respect as a relic from something seemingly mystic to those who hadn't been a part of it. It was bookmarked on a single page in reference to one dish that had ingredients measurement so precise that Sanji, with all his impeccable memory and skill, could not recite for every chef all the time. Apparently Rebecca would be receiving a creation forged from a part of Choppers past birthday cake, consisting of macaroon truffles and a souffle so delicate a moth wing could upset the pastry. 

The first boat arrived a week later, carrying two guards and two advisors to the king. Sanji charmed the advisors with his knowledge of wines and proper cutlery, and Zoro tried goading the guards into a drinking contest. Preparations for the party set, the ship began its transformation from high-class to royalty-formal. Fairy lights were strung around the docks and new candles were arranged in center pieces. Glasses were polished, the silverware was changed, napkins folded like birds. A black suit was thrown in Zoro’s face, and he complained through trying in on, knowing he’d wear it anyways. Sanji cut him a deal; everytime Zoro put the suit on, Sanji would take his own off. Zoro found the compromise fair. 

The king and princess arrived the day before the scheduled event. They’d been at sea for a few days, and wanted the extra time to rest. The Tontatta tribe included Leo and Wicca and a large group of other small people, who had too much energy for Zoro to deal with, and the appetite of normal sized humans on top of that. Wicca had seen fit to tell every single person within earshot that Zoro had the most helpless sense of direction in the world, and it was a damn shame he couldn't cut her up without starting some sort of international affair. 

Viola seemed happy to see Sanji, and if she was happy than Sanji was  _ ecstatic.  _ Zoro was  _ not _ . 

 

“Viola-swan, do you still take your tea with sugar?”

 

“Yes, Sanji-san, thank you.”

 

“Please, just Sanji is fine!”

 

Zoro ground his teeth. He  _ wasn't  _ jealous. Sanij would always be Sanji, and that included being a dumbass with women, even if he had adjusted himself over the years to be less a bloody-nosed moron. It was the fact that Sanji and Viola had known each other for a while, and that Viola seemed genuinely happy to spend time with Sanji, which bothered the shit out of Zoro. The fact that Viola was a  _ princess _ wasn't helping. 

 

“Zoro-san, how have you been? The news hasn't included any recent adventures with your name, but I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

 

And of course she just had to be an honestly nice person. Zoro almost couldn't stand it. She was nice, she was pretty, he was pretty sure she had killed at least 10 men, so she was basically Sanji’s  _ type _ . The cook was a hell of a masochist when it came to women, example A being Nami. 

 

“Viola-chan, would you like a tour? Or perhaps you’re tired from the journey, shall I get you something sweet?”

 

Zoro tugged on Sanji’s sleeve, annoyed. 

 

“Oi, I’m hungry.”

 

“You just ate, you’re not Luffy, shut up. Viola-chan, my kitchen is always open to you, just say the word!”

 

Zoro grumbled. He  _ wasn't  _ hungry really, but it usually worked as an attention grabber for the cook. Bastard knew Zoro too well though. Viola seemed to find it amusing. 

 

“I’d be remiss to decline something from you, Sanji-san. Perhaps the tart samples you were talking about, and Zoro-san could try them with me?”

 

Sanji looked torn about the idea. Zoro stuck his tongue out in childish revenge. Sanji glowered for a moment, before smirking triumphantly.

 

“Ah, but unfortunately the local plant life doesn't have a palate accommodating to sweets, my dear. As a chef, I could never bring someone something they didn't enjoy.”

 

Zoro narrowed his eye, feeling a familiar vein throb in his forehead. He was sure that there was something fucked about the fact that he loved the man that gave him daily headaches out of impossible annoyance, but that was one hell of an old fact anyways. 

With a huff, he grabbed Sanji’s tie, pulling the cook down to steal a kiss. He wasn't above making a show of possessiveness, pushing the kiss into something just deep enough to make it a little dirty. Sanji resisted for only a moment, his eyelashes fluttering shut and tickling Zoro’s skin. Zoro pulled away with a quiet  _ pop _ , smirking as Sanji turned a bright red and straightened his tie. Viola had a blush of her own, but her surprise subsided into a casual smile easily. Sanji avoided eye contact. 

 

“It appears then that Zoro-san  _ can _ accomodate for sweet things.”

 

Zoro had to let out a sharp bark of laughter at that. Sanji stuttered something of an excuse, blushing so hard steam seemed to come from his ears and running off towards the kitchen. Zoro folded his arms, ignoring his own heated cheeks and smirking at Viola. 

 

“Yeah, sometimes I get a craving.”

 

A spatula hit him in the back of the head.

  
  
  



	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its the wrong words that always spread like weeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did anyone know that Leo was 25 actual years old because I sure as fuck didnt

  
  


Lunch was a casual affair of chefs bustling around to set everything up and royals lounging with sandwiches. It was odd for everything to be so unremarkable before such a grand event, like the backstage of a play. No one was in costume yet, and the stage was still being painted. 

 

“Rebecca-chan, I’m so happy you chose my restaurant for your place of celebration! Such an honor to have a beautiful princess gracing the ship!”

 

Rebecca blushed at the fauning, giggling at the overly dramatic antics. Leo was going through the dishes on the table faster than Zoro could, and he had to hold his own plate away from him. He had discussed sword fighting with Rebecca’s father, as well as the princess herself before Sanji had kicked him hard in the shins to remind him that no, actually, maybe we  _ don't  _ want to bring back certain memories of certain possibly traumatizing events? Luckily the mosshead seemed fine with keeping his mouth shut, or at least busy trying to eat his own food before the Tontatta guys did. Sanji made a mental note to increase the portions. He pushed that aside for later though, focusing his attention on the lovely Rebecca.

 

“Normally we would celebrate at home, but the timing aligned with a diplomats meeting, and I couldn't pass up the chance to eat here. I’m sorry it's causing such a fuss though…”

 

Sanji waved her off, refilling the tea and smacking Leo away from Rebecca’s plate of pear slices. She picked one up to give to him anyways. 

 

“Nonsense, it's hardly any trouble. For you my dear, we would rebuild the entire ship if it pleased you!”

 

Rebecca laughed while Zoro rolled his eye. The swordsman stood, stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. Sanji tsked and kicked his shin.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

 

Zoro picked up the dish, pushing Leo away from his bread crumbs and giving Sanji a flat look. 

 

“If I stay here any longer the sandwich is gonna come back up.”

 

Rebecca giggled, and Sanji made a pained face, stuck between fawning over the young lady and yelling at Zoro. He wasn't going to risk the asshole repeating his stunt from earlier though, especially not in front of such a sweet and innocent thing as Rebecca

 

“Ug, whatever. Just take the plate back.”

 

Zoro waved the plate he had picked up in the air, stomping towards the kitchens. Sanji groaned, embarrassed at the man’s behavior. He went about cutting the fresh bread for the princess, cheeks still burning. 

 

“I think it's cute that you guys are so in love and all.”

 

Sanji stopped cutting. He looked up at Rebecca, flustered. 

 

“Oh, no my dear, I think you’ve been misinformed! I mean,  _ love _ is such a serious term and we’re…”

 

Well shit, now was sure a great fucking time to realize he didn't have a  _ lable _ for their relationship thing.

 

“...We’re, uh, crewmates.”

 

Sanji winced at that. Rebecca put down her tea, looking at Sanji with large eyes. 

 

“Really? I’m sorry but it's just, Viola thought- and the way you spoke…”

 

Leo stopped munching on his biscuits, looking up at Sanji as well. 

 

“You guys kissed though! People kiss when they love each other.”

 

Rebecca flushed the same time Sanji did. 

 

“Leo! That’s hardly our business! I’m sorry Sanji-san, he doesn't-

 

Sanji put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a smile. She closed her mouth, still looking uncomfortable. 

 

“It’s fine, princess. I mean, we’re a bit,  _ more  _ than just crewmates I suppose, but really, I’d hardly say we’re in love.”

 

Rebecca looked a bit confused, but she nodded, smiling. 

 

“Well, what matters is you’re both happy, and you both look very happy together.”

 

Sanji smiled, ears returning to a deep red. He  _ was  _ happy being with Zoro, however they were. Leo jumped onto Sanji’s shoulder, poking him to get his attention. 

 

“Gancho says you can only kiss the person you love though. What if you love someone and they see you kiss Zoro-land? It’s bad!”

 

Sanji didn't know what the fuck a Gancho was but it sounded a lot like bullshit. He sure as hell wasn't going to say that to a tiny fairy boy or a princess though. 

 

“Look, love is something magical, and it takes time to find, right? Sometimes a person isn't ‘the one’ but they can still be special to you.”

 

Leo looked like he was trying to get his brain around that, and Sanji hoped he hadn’t broken the little guy. He looked over at the princess, hoping he hadn't said anything that came off as rude. She seemed to be thinking over his words herself. Leo poked Sanji again, and the cook gave the boy his attention. 

 

“So Zoro-land is a test?”

 

Hell, that was a pretty brutal way of putting it. Sanji hoped Rebecca might give him some backup, but she was looking fairly uncomfortable about the topic at this point. Sanji rubbed the back of his neck, not pleased with the turn their conversation had taken.

 

“Uh, Leo, have you ever been on a date? Shit, do you know what a date is?”

 

Sanji didn't actually know how old Leo  _ was _ . For all Sanji knew the guy was 10, and the idea was starting to freak Sanji out. Dear god, he was corrupting a fucking fairy child. At least Zoro wasn't around for the awkwardness.

Something small hit the table, causing it to jolt and making everyone jump. Wicca popped out from under a napkin, all big smiles and red cheeks, followed by a more reserved Mansherry. Sanji silently thanked the stars in the sky for their appearance. 

 

“Leo! Did you see the cake? It’s bigger than a human!”

 

Sanji jumped on the topic, eager to push the other one aside. 

 

“Yes, thank you Wicca-chan! Each row is a different flavor, and you can try them all. Of course, it won't be served until tonight, for our lovely princess.”

 

The three dwarf-fairy-whatevers moved to Rebecca excitedly, and the talk turned to food easily. Sanji excused himself, deciding he wanted to look over the menu again to see if he should add more Dressrosa dishes for the coming guests. Maybe he’d add another tier to the cake just for Wicca. 

  
  


-oOo-

 

Zoro ended up getting cornered by Zeff in the kitchen, who looked one wrong word away from murdering someone. Apparently one of the chefs had come down with a cold and was banished from touching anything food related, which somehow made a difference or whatever. Either way, Zoro decided it would be in his best interest to just do what Zeff told him to do, and so he ended up stuck moving lifeboats for a reason that remained a mystery. It was taking forever, and he’d have to pick up the pace if he wanted to change for dinner before Sanji found him in his so-called ‘peasant’ clothes. 

He let his mind wander back to the cook as it always seemed to, regardless of how annoying the guy could be in woman-surrounded situations like this. At least he’d be too embarrassed to properly swoon over Viola now, which was pretty funny. Zoro was also looking forward to the party a little, knowing there's be plenty of food and alcohol and most importantly, Sanji would be free. Unlike the last party, this time Zoro felt the thrill of knowing he could spend the whole time by the cook’s side, asking him to dance and bitching about servings way too small and stealing kisses. Their time on the supply island had been a brief blessing of sorts, getting Sanji away from work for once. Now, tonight, Sanji would be dressed up and bright eyed surrounded by his accomplishments, and Zoro would really get to be  _ with  _ him. Sure there’d be princesses, but they wouldn't get to see the way he smiled on the verge of sleep, tucked in bed with his plentiful scars and mused hair. 

Something hit Zoro so hard in the arm he almost dropped the stacked lifeboats. He would have moved if it’d been a threat, and he was hardly surprised to see Leo looking up at him. He had a frosting mustache on his face, and the tell tale signs of someone high as shit on sugar. 

 

“Oh! Zoro-land!”

 

Zoro put down the boats with a loud thud. He plucked Leo up from the back of his collar, the kid vibrating like an Usopp invention. Zoro distinctly remembered a time when Luffy had eaten a full bag of sugar on Merry out of hunger/boredom and caused extensive damage to the mast.

 

“Oi, don't just go around crashing into people.”

 

Leo laughed in the grip, his tiny legs kicking around. He wiped at the frosting on his face, making it worse. 

 

“Have you seen Sanji-land? He said I could have the second cake slice after Princess Rebecca!”

 

Zoro glanced over at the horizon, noting the quickly lowering sun. Had they already served the cake? No way, the party was probably just warming up now. He’d have to choose between Zeff kicking him for not stacking the boats or Sanji kicking him for not changing clothes.

 

“Maybe you should ease off the sweets for a bit, kid.”

 

Leo pouted hard, wiggling until he wasn't in Zoro’s hand anymore. He trotted up the swordsman’s arm.

 

“How mean! I can eat whatever I want, Sanji-land said so.”

 

“Well there's no food  _ here _ , so go back to the party.”

 

Leo puffed up his cheeks, his tail swishing around agitatedly. 

 

“I don't want to go back, Princess Mansherry is being weird again.”

 

Zoro sighed. As the sun lowered he doubted he’s be able to find the stupid room with his stupid suit in it. He looked at Leo, who reminded him way too much of Chopper, and sighed again. 

 

“And why is she being weird?”

 

Leo jumped at the opening, beaming up at Zoro. 

 

“Well, so, it all started when she told me she was in love with me-

 

“Fucks sake.”

 

“-And then I told her I was in love with her too, because I am, but then she started being so  _ weird _ about it! Always making me sit next to her and not do this or that or something!”

 

Zoro rubbed at his face.

 

“And what’s the problem then?”

 

Leo hit his arm, which  _ hurt _ .

 

“She’s always telling me what to do! Just because we’re in love doesn't mean I have to  _ obey _ her!”

 

“Isn't she your princess though…”

 

Another punch. Zoro winced. 

 

“What do you do when Sanji-land tells you what to do?”

 

Honestly it was a pretty even divide between just straight on doing what the cook wanted and arguing with him until Zoro eventually just ended up doing what the cook wanted anyways. Sanji tended to get what he wanted one way or another, and now he had sex as a bargaining chip, so. 

 

“I do whatever won't get me kicked in the head, Leo.”

 

_ Or kicked out of bed. _

 

“Even if you don't like it?”

 

Zoro gave Leo a glance. He looked like a tiny kid, but then again Chopper looked like a teddy bear and had a comprehension level of a 70 year old genius. Zoro didn't see much point in filtering too much for the little guy.

 

“Look, you love her, you want her to be happy, trust me when I say it's easier to just go with it. If she asks you to do something crazy then yeah, go ahead and question it, but if she just wants you to sit next to her then sit the hell next to her.”

 

Leo seemed to take that in, sitting down on Zoro’s arm. Distant music could be heard now, along with loud laughter. The party would be in full swing soon. 

 

“So you’d do what Sanji-land asked you to, even though you don't love him?”

 

Zoro choked on his own spit. 

 

“Who- what? Thats- what the fuck.”

 

“Because you’re a test, but you still do what he says!”

 

Zoro took a calming breath to steady his heart, then looked at Leo, confused. 

 

“Who’s a test?”

 

Leo pointed at Zoro, like it was obvious. 

 

“ _ You're  _ the test! Sanji-land said so.”

 

Still rattled, Zoro rolled his eye. Leo jumped back to his feet, climbing back up the swordsman’s arm to stand on his shoulder. 

 

“And what is the cook testing on me now, huh?”

 

Leo continued his climbing and scrambled up to Zoro’s head, and the swordsman didn't really appreciate it, but he wasn't going to stop him at this point. He remembered how hard it was to get Wicca to leave him alone. 

 

“Sanji-land said you’re his test, and I think that’s what a date is too? So that means Sanji-land is also  _ your  _ test, until you find the right one.”

 

Zoro paused at that, even more confused. He didn't really get what Leo was saying, but he’d might as well finish humoring him until he went away. 

 

“Ok, so what, I’m his test, but he’s my test? What are we supposed to be testing?”

 

Leo stomped his foot, which was on Zoro’s head and fuck thats his fucking  _ head _ and  _ ow _ .  

 

“Dummy! You test out loving someone so that when you find your true love, you get it right! Sanji-land said you’re not ‘the one’, so that means it's a test, right?”

 

Zoro stood very still, trying to process that. He couldn't though, the words didn't make sense. They scrambled behind his eyes, not sinking in while the sun disappeared behind the horizon. He slowly reached up to grab Leo, and brought the small boy to his eye level.

 

“Leo, what exactly did the coo- did Sanji-land say?”

 

Leo huffed, pointing a finger at Zoro. 

 

“Well,  _ I  _ said it was bad to kiss someone you’re not in love with, because me and the princess saw you both kiss but then Sanji-land said you weren't in love! and he said it was fine to do it with you, and then I asked why, and he said it was ok because you have to test to see if you’re in love, even though you’re not? I still don't get it, but if you’re his test then he must be your test, right?”

 

Leo dangled there in Zoro’s hand, swaying a little. There was a slow understanding creeping up Zoro’s whole body, starting with his feet and climbing steadily towards his chest. It left something like a numbness behind. 

 

“...He said he didn't love me?”

 

Leo looked up at him, the sugar crash starting to show already. 

 

“Well yeah, that’s why you’re a test. You guys aren't in love, so it's not real I guess.”

 

There was a low hum somewhere off of a crowd, an exclamation of excitement, glasses clinking. Zoro turned his head in it's direction, his feet moving robotically before stumbling slightly. Leo removed himself easily from the slack grip, oblivious to anything wrong. He went on about his own love, about testing things with her and the difference being that they  _ were _ in love, and was there anyone Zoro-land loved? And why was he with Sanji-land anyways? What was he testing if they weren't in love?

Zoro had stopped listening. He was sure that somewhere in his head he was capable of rational thinking and justification, but it wasn't there at the moment. Instead there was a story going on loop in his mind, the words hushed and familiar and old as dirt.  _ Once upon a time,  _ it began.  _ Once upon a time there was a man, and he fell in love _ . 

Zoro had heard this story so many times. He could go on and on forever about people who fell in love and met tragedy, who met the real fucking world without the fairytale endings. His story wasn't one bit different. He’d fallen so hard and for so long and now he was deep out of control. He’d created something desperate within himself, convinced that he could live like this, or maybe that he couldn't live without. 

 

_ Once upon a time, a man fell in love.  _ That’s it. The story ends there. His ever after doesn't have uniqueness, and heartbreak is already cliche enough.  

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things fall apart

  
  
  
  
  


 

Sanji walked along the quiet deck, fixing his bowtie as the fairy lights mixed with the stars above him. The guests had only just moved to indoor area, everyone’s excitement palpable for the cake cutting now that the appetizers had been devoured and enough wine consumed. Sanji lit a cigarette, blowing little smoke rings in the soft dark. 

He felt Zoro’s presence before he saw him, turning with a lazy smile on his face. He had just been thinking about going off to find the missing swordsman, and now the thought of sharing the quiet moment seemed so nice. 

 

“Oi, moss-

 

He wasn't expecting the sword, having spent months on months of being beside Zoro, of trusting Zoro, of knowing him as gentle. There was the built in response of  _ move  _ and  _ fight  _ that kept the blood in his body as he twisted away from the strike. He stared at the long blade, embedded in what was left of a table. Something wrong prickled at the back of Sanji’s neck as he turned his eyes to follow up the hilt, up the arms, into Zoro’s face. 

It had been easy, in hindsight, to forget the type of monster Zoro  _ was _ . Sanji didn't see him most days as the world’s greatest, as the demon of the east, as  _ pirate hunter _ and pirate killer and how many thousands had fallen by his hands now? There had been Zoro, his nakama, his friend, and this lover who whispered softy into his ear before the sunlight cast shadows. Hands that touched with reverence- gone in place of something else. The Roronoa Zoro before Sanji now was not the one to give kindness.

 

“What the fuck was that for?”

 

It was debilitatingly frightening, suddenly, to watch Zoro move so slowly. The way he pulled his sword back like the wood was butter and his muscles were silk, the way his eye gleamed-the way it  _ burned _ . Sanji swallowed, never one to back down,  _ never _ one to back down, aware that in the pit of his stomach there was something very close to fear telling him that the Zoro before him was  _ wrong _ . 

 

“A  _ test _ .”

 

The sword came down so close to Sanji’s face that he caught the reflection of his pupil. A stray hair was cut from his head in the motion of avoidance, the fabric of his suit grazed. The impact of the wind alone took away Sanji’s breath, and he retreated one step. Wood cracking behind him told him a few chairs didn't survive the strike. The fairy lights danced. 

 

“What the hell are yo-

 

“A fucking  _ test _ , Sanji.”

 

Sanji jumped, rolling over another table as half the deck was cleared in an instant. He watched in slow motion as his furniture turned to scrap and the fine china distantly splashed in the sea. The floorboards, so painstakingly mopped and waxed, torn like paper. 

 

“You goddamn- stop it!”

 

“You don't get to treat me like some- like a  _ stand-in _ .”

 

“What are you  _ talking  _ about!?”

 

Another wave of blood-lust and anger ripped through Sanji, grabbing at his pant leg and taking nearly all of the railing where the cook had just been. A few lonely chairs remained, with a single table sitting in the middle of the once pristine deck. It’s white tablecloth fluttered like a surrendering flag. Sanji could feel a bruise on his knee forming. 

 

“I want to hear it from you, cook. I want  _ you  _ to say it.”

 

“Say  _ what _ ? God, just stop destroying my ship!”

 

“Is that your main concern right now? The ship?”

 

A horrible, enormous crack came to follow Zoro’s movement as his blade settled. The entire ship groaned, the hole in the wood forming a mouth for the vessel to cry from. Even Franky would have to take days to fix this. A door slammed somewhere behind them, and distantly he could hear the murmur of other people. 

Sanji pulled at his hair, white knuckles grasping frantically like he could pull the semblance of normalcy from his own head. His beautiful deck, devastated by Zoro’s unfair rage. He looked to Zoro for some sort of answer to this anger, any kind of explanation, any clue or hint and there was only a perfectly formed mask on the mans face. 

 

“I don't  _ understand _ !”

 

“What am I to you, Sanji?”

  
  


o

-

 

(Here’s how it went in Zoro’s head: He says  _ I love you _ and nothing goes to shit.)

 

Here’s how it goes in real life: There's this thing in his chest that makes him want to cut open his own torso and get a good look at his heart just to make sure it  _ is  _ beating. There’s a sun in the sky and it's so much bullshit the way it's shining down all day every day and  _ how does it do that?  _ There’s Sanji, standing right there, and he doesn't know Zoro loves him, he doest know  _ he doesn't know- _

And Zoro can't tell him. He can see it in Sanji’s face with an answer painted in anger and confusion. Zoro can never tell him now, and that’s how it's going to go- that’s just how it's always been and it makes him out to be a perfect fool for thinking anything will change. It makes love look much more like a bomb even though it was just a touch and a kiss and a word at the start. 

He won't say love was a mistake but that's mostly because he never got to make the choice in the first place. 

-

o

  
  


Sanji looked at the mess of his deck, and at Zoro, standing with his sword under broken fairy lights with a rage so wild it was ugly. 

But of course Zoro wasn't something ugly. He had become something quite beautiful to Sanji, something a little too precious and overflowing for his hands to hold. And now he asked Sanji  _ what am I to you?  _

_ Nakama _ , of course.  _ My friend. My comrade, my support, my lover, my other arms and legs. My family.  _ He should tell Zoro it's easier to ask what he  _ isn't  _ rather than what he  _ is _ . Would the answer calm him? Would it be enough?

 

“You’re my nakama, and I’m yours, Zoro.”

 

Zoro looked at him with his carefully masked expression. Sanji hated that, confused as he was at what was going on, he wanted to be let in by the swordsman.

 

“Do nakama fuck each other?”

 

Sanji flinched at the way Zoro said that, with his quiet tone. He regretted it immediately, catching the way Zoro’s eye latched onto the tiny movement. 

He had wondered, of course, what it had all meant to Zoro. It was always there, muted in Sanji’s mind and everflowing, wanting to know how serious it all was to Zoro. For all Sanji knew, Zoro was the same with all his possibly many lovers- being tender and gentle and holding them like it meant something more. It struck at Sanji like a physical impact that maybe he had never seen a unique side of Zoro, and that he had been projecting his silly romantic views the whole time. 

Sanji’s rose tinted glasses cracked along the edges and shattered at his feet, and what he was left with was Zoro, and his anger.

 

“Maybe they do. How would I know, I only became a pirate after meeting Luffy. You’ve been at sea your whole life. Maybe it's normal for you, to  _ use _ your nakama.”

 

Those implications promoted Sanji’s movement. Angry for whatever reason, Zoro didn't have the right to talk to him like that. The sole of his shoe hit Zoro’s blade, echoing loud. In the corner of his eye he saw chefs urging people back inside, away from the chaos. He struck out again, forcing Zoro back until the man let out a growl, striking downwards and causing floorboards to splinter up. Sanji felt blood drip off his cheek. 

 

“I never used you! I would  _ never _ do that!”

 

“But you’ll still pretend to care. You’ll take what you need from whoever you like, but I guess I was a more convenient option or something.”

 

Sanji felt heat claw his leg until the fire burst there. There was an ache starting in his chest, spreading and becoming all consuming as the pain ate at his heart. He threw his leg out, again and again even as wood split around him and his flawless ship took hits. Zoro met each kick, eye glinting. 

 

“You shit-filled useless swordsman, what the fuck gives you the right!?

 

“What, afraid of the truth, shit-cook? Don't wanna see who you really are?”

 

“I know who I am! You’re the one who doesn't have a fucking clue, running around and trying to  _ fit in _ somewhere!”

 

There was a flash of something like hurt, something like regret, and then scabbed over and replaced by that anger again, burning Zoro up from the ground. A blade came down sharply, and this time Sanji’s leg didn't move quick enough and the blood dripped down into his shoe. 

 

“At least I live up to my title, not getting soft like some useless fucking  _ cook _ !” 

 

That  _ hurt _ . Sanji knew his insecurities in that field were well known by the people close to him. To have it taken from him and used as a weapon was nearly crippling. 

 

“So now you’re gonna be all high and mighty, huh? Can't be equal to a lowly  _ cook _ anymore?”

 

There was another exchange of blows, Sanji lashing out in all the ways he knew how, and Zoro was forced back, but he didn't take a single hit. It was unbelievably frustrating because Zoro just always had to be the calm and collected asshole, didn't he? Always taking people apart with his blank face and cold eyes, and Sanji couldn't do that. He burned too hot, just like his heart. 

 

“Please, If I wanted you dead, you would be. But if  _ you  _ wanted me dead? I wouldn't even know, because I would have beaten you before you even tried,  _ cook _ .”

 

Another bone rattling sound of wood breaking cut through the air. Sanji felt his own attack fall feebly against sharp steel, and he wanted to close his eyes. Maybe if he lay himself down, Zoro would spare the ship at least. The pridefulness in Sanji was too loud though, and he didn't bow his head to anyone. 

 

“So that’s where we are, huh? You gonna try and kill me? Add me to your list with all the other dead assholes that pissed you off?”

 

A knick at Sanji’s throat this time. A tiny trail of red, stark against his white skin and whiter shirt. 

 

“You’re one to talk about lists.”

 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

His foot connected with something the same time his sleeve tore. 

 

“You got one hell of a long  _ list _ of your own, shit-cook. Tell me something, what number am I when it comes to the people you’ve taken up to your room, huh?”

 

Sanji felt his blood still in his very veins. He felt his heart pause in it's beats. 

 

“You don't get to say that shit.”

 

“Why not? I was part of the numbers, right? Part of all the  _ tests _ .”

 

He spat out the last word like it burned his tongue. Something very cold clung to Sanji’s ribs, breaking out of control. He lowered his bleeding leg, eyes hard on Zoro.

 

“Of course. Because that’s what anyone is to the stupid love-cook, right? An easy fuck.  _ Meaningless _ .” 

 

His voice was flat and cold, eyes boring into Zoro’s own glare. He didn't show an inch of his wound, growing larger by the second. There was a pause as Zoro seemed to recoil a little before he quickly put himself back together. Sanji wanted to know what he was thinking, and then he pushed that desire away. There wasn't room for remorse anymore, not when Zoro seemed set on cutting the ties that had been built. Not when Zoro seemed guiltless in destroying the ship Sanji had built with love. But he was good at being angry too, at being so fucking furious he didn't feel  _ shit  _ escape that anger, and so he let himself be angry. 

When Zoro spoke it was devoid of emotion, and it made the small remaining part of Sanji- the one that cared so deeply- want to break and break and cry. 

 

“Maybe you’re right, shit-cook. Maybe you are just the easy fuck. You ever think about that, cook? About your little customers, lining up for the ‘food’?”

 

Sanji flinched involuntarily. Zoro pushed forward. 

 

“You’ve never been more than a half decent cook anyways, but free, easy sex? Well it's no wonder this place is so damn popular.”

 

“ _ Fuck you. _ ”

 

“I already did. Or did you go ahead and forget and add me to the list of all the others?”

 

With a snarl, Sanji launched himself, fire and all, at Zoro. He put all his strength into the kick, forcing Zoro to harden his arm and plant his foot more firmly. Sanji lashed out again, not able to find an opening but forcing Zoro to move, making his retreat if only a tiny step. 

 

“Maybe I  _ did  _ forget it already, boring as your dick was! I may have had more partners than you, but at least they could all fuck properly. What’s your excuse? Too used to wannabe swordsmen sucking your dick, doing all the work for the  _ world’s greatest _ ?”

 

Zoro took a hard swing that missed Sanji’s head by a hair. Furry transformed his face, making him look so dark and cruel that the air around him seemed to swirl. 

 

“And yet you still still came at me begging for it.”

 

“Acting always was a skill of mine. After all, I had to sail with you all those years, putting up with your  _ shit _ just for Luffy!”

 

Zoro growled, throwing reckless strikes at Sanji, distracted, angry, unfocused. 

 

“Well you got through it, congratulations,  _ love-cook _ ! You made it with the King of Pirates, and what do you have to show for it!?”

 

Sanji took a sharp breath, feeling his stomach turn to ice and his throat burn.

 

“Don't you  _ dare _ -

 

“A glorified  _ food stall _ with some fucking  _ fish _ . You think the world gives a single fucking  _ shit _ , Sanji!? You think  _ anyone  _ cares except you!?”

 

Sanji howled, floorboards splintering as he kicked himself in Zoro’s direction. He attacked until Zoro’s back met the rail, and then he kicked harder, made himself push harder fight harder be  _ better _ . He wanted to hear the sound of Zoro’s bones breaking, he wanted it all to  _ hurt. _

Zoro pushed back, and with the enormity of strength he possessed, Sanji couldn't match it. For all the years and all the trials, he was just the perfect amount right behind Zoro that the difference could be seen. The sword pushed Sanji from the deck, through the wall of the kitchen. When he got to his feet Zoro was there, standing by a broken burner in the dark. Sanji spat blood on the cracked tiles. 

 

“You wanna know something Zoro? You may have that shitty,  _ useless _ , title, but it doesn't change  _ shit.  _ You’ll still wander around,  _ alone _ , killing fucking  _ kids _ until you die, and  _ no one  _ will care. You’ll be long forgotten, but I’ll have my fucking  _ fish _ . I’ll have my  _ food stall _ .”

 

Sanji kicked out, knowing it wouldn't make a difference anymore. He felt a sick satisfaction creeping in his chest at the way Zoro grunted, taking the impact. 

 

“I’ll be here,  _ helping  _ people, giving them food and sure, an  _ easy fuck,  _ and you’ll live you short,  _ meaningless  _ life, killing every little thing that bothers you.”

 

He kept going, pressing hit after hit into Zoro, watching the perfect kitchen tremble around him. Zoro’s sword cut clean through one of the ovens, and the metal creaked like an outcry. 

 

“I should have known the moment you showed your sorry ass here, on my ship. You’ll never change, you’ll always just get bored and move on, looking for something else to destroy as if to prove something. One day you’re gonna fucking destroy whole cities, and then islands, and then what, Zoro? You wanna destroy the whole damn world?”

 

Zoro just looked up at him, and for a second it seemed like the fight had gone from him. It was like the wind had picked it up and blown it all away, and then it returned, taking over the swordsman again and Sanji watched, helplessly, as the sanctuary of creation he had made himself fell to ruin. The blade came down towards Sanji, and this time he was able to bring it to a strained halt. 

 

“You’ll fucking destroy yourself, you stupid piece of shit. And I’ll be here, feeding people on my boat with my magic ocean, and I’ll  _ forget you _ .”

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


Zoro remembered a very far away past, and his sensei’s words.

 

_ “True death is when you are forgotten, so we will remember her and she will live on.” _

 

True death- when the soul dies. When the body is gone and the grave is left to ruin, and the world will never know the spelling of the name. He had vowed to make himself invincible in that sense then. He carried Kuina so she would never truly die, and he made his name reach her above and the whole world below so that his immortality extended to her, as well. Roronoa Zoro, the greatest swordsman who cannot die because somewhere, someone remembers that man who defeated the previous with a white sword. 

 

“-and I’ll  _ forget you. _ ”

 

True death, given to him by Sanji then. It was fitting, to be given  _ everything  _ from Sanji, from the heartache to the heartbreak to a life he cherished and then- an end. 

He ached and breathed and it all hurt all over again and he’d never once believed all those bullshit stories about men so heartbroken they threw themselves to the sea. He’d never thought pain could run that deep other than loss from death. 

There was something breaking in him beyond his heart. His self, his center, his understanding seemed to slip away for a moment, leaving the shallow remains of something twisted and ugly which snarled terribly. 

He turned away from Sanji, and raised two swords. 

 

“No-!”

 

The ship screamed as the kitchen imploded with the force. Counters turned to dust as the pipes burst, and the only remains of ovens and burners lay in metal scraps on the floor. Broken marble and granite dropped down, and a bottle of bright yellow spice cracked open, spilling like blood. The old stools in the back, the personally written notes, the hand carved cutting board- gone in the wake of something Zoro couldn't contain. He was lost to it, letting the violence overtake him as cabinets spilled broken plates and cups. Distantly he heard someone screaming, and that was lost too. He raised his swords again and then again. He raised them and-

His blade stopped. 

Open and shaking, Sanji’s hands lay flat over the cover of a book, protecting it from execution. A hairline cut on the skin trickled onto the leather backing of it, and Zoro watched, hypnotized, as the blood moved. And his blade was resolute- unmoving. 

_ Sanji’s hands _ . 

Of course. It would take years and then decades even for him to train himself to harm something so near holy. The preciousness of Sanji’s hands, known even in his subconsciousness, would not allow for action against. Zoro could hurt so much of Sanji, apparently even had the capacity to hurt him emotionally in a deep, unforgivable way, but still he was unable to lay harm of such hands. 

He willed himself not to look, and then he did anyways. 

Sanji was a mess of dust and cuts. A bruise was blooming at his temple, skittering down to meet the crusted blood on his cheek. His lips were tight, the cut there still free bleeding and rolling down is chin. The settled dirt had turned his hair and shirt grey, and he was still beau-

It didn't matter. Zoro could see the wetness in his eyes, and he knew Sanji didn't like crying, but he was an easy cryer anyways. Sanji was emotion and fire and kindness above all, and his eyes were wet and hateful. They were so, so hurt. On the verge of tears, blue and infinite, Sanji’s eyes burned away at Zoro until there was nothing left. It hallowed Zoro out, leaving him momentarily empty before a wave of shame rose like bile in his throat. 

Sanji’s hand bled weakly, and Zoro fled. 

  
  


-oOo-

  
  


In the remains of the kitchen, Sanji clung to his recipe book. He pressed it to his chest, as if he could apologize to it and everything would become better by will alone. He had risked his hands, his only offer left, and it had just barely been enough. He ran his trembling fingers over the old leather, the date of his first day as a Straw Hat marked on the spine. He knew as well as he knew every word in the book that the first page was dedicated to Luffy’s appetite, and there was a stain in the top corner from the very man. 

He told himself to remain firm. He told himself,  _ you need to be strong, right now.  _

(Here’s what Sanji was expecting: nothing.)

The most he even thought he was  _ allowed  _ to hope for was a partial kindness. He’d already gotten more than he thought he deserved, and so it was fitting it should end. There was something wet running down his face and he pretended it was blood.

 

_ You don't deserve shit for the failure you are and no one wants you. _

 

He tells the voice in his head to shut the fuck up, and the king of Germa laughs in his ear. 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry im not sorry my guys


End file.
